The frail, but hard to kill yellow bird
by Kida Lydianna
Summary: My version of how Peeta and Katniss grow back together. Begins a few days after Peeta returns to District 12.
1. Chapter 1

**My version of how Peeta and Katniss grow back together. I do not own The Hunger Games. **

The frail, but hard to kill yellow bird

The fact that it sings makes me angry. How dare it make music. How dare it be happy. I silently curse the miner that was careless enough to let him escape from his cage. The canary sits on a branch outside my bedroom window and continues to sing its heart out. He is covered in coal dust, his beak burrowed into his feathers to clean the soot off him. The brilliant yellow feathers barely conquered by the decrepit earth particles masking them.

I had been lying face down on my bed, my face hidden by my dirty smooth material of my sheets eroding the burnt skin off my flesh. I had been waiting for the bedding to deskin me completely when it had started to chirp outside my room, trying to attract females with his voice.

I had opened my window with a bang and tried to reach him with my fist to squeeze the life out of him. He was too far away though, and had hopped a few inches away from where my fingers spread and strained. Taunting me with his song.

My anger had boiled, and I had begun to scream and throw things until I was exhausted and collapsed onto the floor. But he never stopped.

Morning breaks, and I awaken from my nightmares on the floorboards, my body aching, my eyelids still heavy. Peeta is here with Greasy Sae. This is the third day he has come for breakfast. I don't know why though. I can hear them make polite conversation downstairs as they wait for me to join them. I don't think I will. I might go hunt down that bird and kill it.

Sae calls me from the kitchen when Peeta asks, "Where is Katniss this morning?" She makes me eat the food she puts in front of me. I don't know why she does that either.

Peeta and I sit at the table and wait for Sae to finish feeding us like we did the past two days. I think he's trying to meet my eyes with his. But I refuse him that, and just stare at the table instead. Peeta has brought warm bread again, too. It's good. It has raisins and nuts in it. I wonder if it's the same kind that he gave me when I was eleven. It's not though. Because he doesn't remember that.

Greasy Sae and her granddaughter leave. Peeta sits at the table for a while, and tries to make conversation with me.

But I tell him to leave and go back upstairs to my room.

I look for the yellow bird that's out to get me. But he isn't anywhere on my property. So I put on my fathers hunting jacket and my hunting boots. I grab my bow and arrows and quietly leave. But once I'm outside I realize it's too warm for a jacket. It is now spring time.

I keep the jacket on anyways.

I check all the trees in the Victors Village. Well, every tree but the ones near Peeta's house. No miners canary.

I begin searching in the woods but I'm too tired after an hour.

I end up quitting, its just a stupid bird after all.

I had just felt so much anger at it for singing. Don't ask me why. I just wanted it dead.

A week passes and I go without hearing its singing. I wake, I eat with Sae and Peeta, then I crawl back into bed and stare at the ceiling. I sleep when it turns dark outside. Then the nightmares come. Then a whole new day starts.

One night, it's so warm outside that I open my window and listen to the wind flow through the trees. It's almost peaceful. Of course, the peace is shattered when my nightmares feature mutts, terrifying presidents, and the newly added yellow avions breaking my eardrums with their obnoxious squawks.

When I wake up, sunlight is streaming though my windows and it crashes its rays onto my face. My first thought is relief from my terrible nightmare, the second is how warm the sun feels on my face, and thirdly, annoyance when something small uses its body to shadow the light from my eyes.

I open my eyelids. There, hovering in front of me, it's wings flapping rapidly to stay in one place, is the bird that woke me up that one morning. I lash at it. But it's fast and it dodges my swat.

It stares at me with beady little eyes. I'm up on my feet, running around the room trying to capture it. I run and bump into things. But I don't care. I want it dead.

I can't catch it. And it's too stupid to fly back out the window from where it came.

It sings while it flutters around my room. Buttercup takes notice of the little demon and tries to eat it.

It heads towards my bedroom door and I race after it, my eyes trained on its tail, when I run into something rock solid.

"Ummph." I grunt and someones arms catch me before I fall.

"Woah, there."

I look up, see Peeta, and then back away, feeling strange.

"Sorry." I say.

"It's okay," he says laughing, but then he turns serious again. "I heard noises, a loud thumping, I came up here to make sure you were okay."

"I'm fine." I say.

"Aren't you coming down for breakfast?"

"No, I'm...busy."

"Doing what?" He asks curiously. His blue eyes train onto me, but they look behind him when he hears the fluttering.

"A bird?" He asks.

I nod. "It flew through my window."

"Oh," He says. And thats when I really get a good look at him. He looks healthy, his eyes focused but brows furrowed. He looks worried for me.

"Want some help?" He asks, I find it strange that he doesn't turn his face away if I bore my eyes into his. He just keeps staring back.

He has to ask the question again before I answer.

"With what?"

"Uh, catching the bird. Unless, you wanted another pet."

"No!" I say rather loudly, and he looks surprised, his face looking even more worried.

"Oh, okay. Well, open the windows and maybe it'll fly out."

"I could just shoot it."

"That too." He says while he turns around. "I'll be helping your neighbor out with breakfast okay?"

I don't say anything, and wait till he's in the kitchen before I race and find my bow and arrow. It feels strange to hunt indoors, almost comical. If prim was here-

I stop the thought before it can fully form, but it's too late, the name triggered something inside me, and I'm suddenly on the ground, my hands shaking, my body curled up onto the floor. The bird flutters right above me now, just looking at me. Its mocking me.

I stare up at it from my bundled up posture. He looks frightened, trapped and claustrophobic. Good. That's an awful feeling. And suddenly I don't want to kill it. I want it miserable.

I slowly stand up from my ball on the ground and trembling, walk towards every window and door and shut it. Then I find a shoebox. As it sees me with the box it begins to panic and runs into things in my living room.

"Katniss?" Peeta calls from the kitchen. I ignore him.

By the time Peeta enters the living room behind me I've got the little sucker in the box, it's little body banging against the edges, it's singing turning into a horrifyed scream. I begin to crush it.

"Katniss? What are you doing?" This time Peeta is accompanied by Greasy Sae and her granddaughter. I stop squishing it when the little girl looks up at me with big gray eyes. They're looking at me like I'm crazy.

And I am.

"This bird keeps me awake at night." I explain to them.

"We can put it in the soup." Greasy Sae says after a short silence.

"That's okay...I'll take care of it." I answer, Greasy Sae shrugs and goes back into the kitchen. I stuff the box into the hunting closet and join them for breakfast.

After Greasy Sae and her granddaughter leave, Peeta stays behind. This time I get the feeling he won't let me dismiss him like I did yesterday.

I'm sitting in the living room with the thumping shoe box when he enters from finishing the dishes. He sits in a chair across from the couch where I'm sitting.

Neither of us says anything. And its slightly awkward having the only sound coming from a caged bird.

Surprisingly, I'm the one to break the silence.

"Thanks for the plants." I can't make myself say the name of the rosebush.

"Your welcome."

"I was wondering..." But I don't bother finishing.

He perks up. "What is it?"

"I need a bird cage."

He looks down at my shoe box. "I could...make you one."

"You can do that."

"Sure."

Quiet.

He stands up to leave. Looks at me like he's going to say something, changes his mind, and then turns and leaves.

Then before I can stop myself, I say "See you at breakfast."


	2. The caged flyer

**The Caged Flyer**

I remember that most living things need air to breathe, so I poke holes in the shoebox. Through the tiny holes I peek at it, it's little body curled and trembling in the corner.

Outside, I dig in the yard for worms, I don't find any, so I walk go back inside and sit on my couch and stare at the wall.

Sae comes in and feeds me lunch and then later dinner. I ask for both to be served to me on my couch, but she refuses and demands I come to the table to eat it. I don't know why I listen to her. After all, my face is one of the best known faces in Panem.

But I do as she says and drag my feet to the table. Greasy Sae sets a bowl of rabbit stew in front of me. I stare at it for a while and then slurp it down.

She's doing the dishes when she says. "I like him."

"Who?" I ask.

"Peeta."

"Oh," I stare fixedly at my soup.

"You noticed theres only rabbit in that soup."

"Yes," I say, glad she changed the subject.

"I could use some more meat."

I don't say anything.

Every day after that, Greasy Sae persuades me to start hunting again, but after my futile hunting trip that ended with having me brought back into town on a body cart, I refuse every time.

One morning, Greasy Sae's granddaughter heard my bird thumping around in his shoebox, she ran to my hunting closet and almost set him free, but Sae had quickly wrenched it from her.

"It's okay." I say to her granddaughter. "That bird is probably hungry, it could use some worms."

From then on, Greasy Sae brought me food, and her granddaughter brought the bird worms. The little girl would take a dish rag and wet it with water, then she would take the shoebox, open the lid slightly so the birds head peeked out, she would hold the rag upright so drops of the water would begin to drip. The bird would open its beak to take the water.

And thats how it survived.

Peeta comes every morning with warm bread for breakfast. He comes with Greasy Sae, I think he waits for her to arrive first so he doesn't have to come in alone, and once he's here he sits quietly and eats his food, which is usually soup. That's only about one hour a day that I see him.

That's plenty enough time for me.

One morning, he comes baring bread and a cardboard box. I don't ask, so he brings it up himself.

"Dr. Auroralius sent me this." He says gesturing towards his the box. "He'll send you anything you want him to. You're answering his calls aren't you?"

"What is it?" I ask, pretending I don't hear the rest of his questions.

I open the box he had set on my table. Inside are slim bars of silver metal. They look like weapons. A wave of fear flows through me. Could he kill me with one of these silver bars?

"It's aluminum."

"Metal?"

Peeta nods. "For your bird."

Oh. He's still making my birdcage. They aren't weapons after all. They're materials to make a cage. That's nice of him.

I'm surprised the flying thing is still alive.

A week later Peeta comes to show me the finished product. The aluminum is bent into a large slim dome. It takes two hands to carry it. He has painted the cylindrical bars gold, and I find it beautiful for a prison.

Peeta looks proud of his work. And he looks so genuinely happy giving it to me that I force myself to smile at him, but I think he catchs the hint of forced happiness in my look. He doesn't say anything though.

"Thank you." I say softly. He just nods.

I fetch the shoebox from my hunting closet. I set the shoebox inside the cage, lift the lid and then hurridly slam the tiny door shut. The yellow bird is dazed by its sudden freedom. It looks all around itself and I actually can see his eyes grow wide. It rejoices for a while and gives us his simple one verse song.

_Your not free you stupid thing, you've just changed prisons._

It finally gets that it's still a slave, and his song mellows out.

"What are you going to name her?" Peeta asks while kneeling down beside me and the cage on my living room floor.

I look up at him, and am surprised at his closeness and I wish he would back up. It confuses me when my chest gives a funny squeeze.

"It's a he."

"How do you know?" He asks looking back at the bird.

"Only the males sing."

"Oh," he says, still waiting for an answer.

"So, what'll it be?" He says trying to urge me on.

"Bird. His name is bird."

Peeta laughs. "That's not a name!"

"Yes it is. He belongs to me. I can name it whatever I want."

And with that, I quickly stand up and take my breakfast to eat upstairs in my bedroom.

I shouldn't do that. I shouldn't be so rude to Peeta. He has given me everything. The man that came back from the Capitol was not Peeta. So I don't consider almost killing me something that Peeta has done. But the thing is, I don't know if the old Peeta has come back to me yet, or if he ever will.

He probably won't.

Peeta eats down stairs at my kitchen table and makes the little girl laugh. I don't know how or why. I don't know why he doesn't give up on me for being so cold and passive towards him, either.

It seems I don't know anything anymore these days.

I stand in my bedroom. All I want to do is to sleep, and pretend like no one died. I want to pretend that Peeta was never taken by the Capitol. I wish my little sister had never left me alone.

I wish I had been kinder to my mother. I wish boggs had survived. I wish Gale had never had his chance to dig his way into my heart. I wish Annie's son had a father.

I wish.

For a few days, I bring my breakfast into my room, and I think Peeta looks dissappointed every time I climb the staircase with my plate.

One morning, I was eating tiny blue robin eggs when I hear Greasy Sae ask Peeta if he would like some more from my bedroom on the second floor. I then hear Peeta say, "oh yes please!"

Then Greasy Sae looks down at the pan and then says she thought there was more, but it turns out there wasn't.

"Oh that's okay." Peeta says lightly. Even though I can practically hear his stomach rumbling from up here on the second floor.

I pick up my plate and bring it back down to my kitchen and put it in the sink. Peeta smiles when he sees me.

"Katniss." Peeta says happily.

I try to smile. But I think it's more of a grimace. I'll have to work on that.

"I'm going hunting." I tell Greasy Sae.

"Good." She says and goes to fetch her granddaughter who is playing in my yard.

I look at Peeta who sits at my table.

"I'm glad you're going hunting," he says.

"Why?"

"Because it's good for you." He gets up from my chair. "Tell Greasy Sae I say thanks for the eggs."

"Bye." I call as Peeta leaves.

"See you tomorrow morning," Peeta says softly, and he shuts the door.

I watch him walk back to his house from my window. Then I get my bow and arrows.

I kill three rabbits, and pick katniss roots. When I see the lake my father took me as a child, something fierce and old hits me in my chest.

I think about all the things that happened here. I choke down my tears and go back to harvesting katniss.

I bring my catch back towards Victors Village. I surprise myself with knocking on Peeta's door.

He answers the door almost immediately after I quit banging on it.

"Hello Katniss."

Wordlessly, I hold up one of the rabbits that I have strung onto a game rope.

He grins. "Oh good. You should give them to Greasy Sae."

"You're hungry though." I say.

He cocks his head in confusion. "What?"

"You wanted more for breakfast, so I caught you this rabbit."

"Oh, well. Thank you, Katniss. But I have my own food here. I just made cookies. Would you like some?" He asks opening the door more to invite me in.

All of a sudden I am suspicious. He might kill me in there. I throw the rabbit on his porch step and quickly shake my head no and back away. I can hear Peeta calling my name as I sprint back to my house.

That night, I twist and turn in my bed. I think about how stupid I was to go through all that work to get a rabbit for someone who didn't need it. Why should I care if Peeta starves? I don't care.

But every time I see him my heart drops into my stomach, and I cannot deny the sanity that I see in his eyes.

_It's a trick. _I think. _He's trying to convince you he's save to approach. Then out of the blue, he'll knock your brains out._

I am afraid to fall asleep, so I try think about things that won't make my heart throb any more than it already has been for weeks.

I think about skinning those rabbits I killed this afternoon. But then thinking about those rabbits makes me think about my sudden burst of energy that I had felt while on the mission to feed Peeta. And that makes me think about Peeta himself. I change gears and think about my hunt instead.

Just a month ago I was too weak to make it anywhere near the lake. And today, I had gone there and back without getting winded.

I am getting stronger. My bird is getting stronger too, his little lungs have been singing nonstop for a while. His bright yellow coat now completely clean of the coal dust that had once infused itself into his feathers.

I can hear him now. He sings loud and clear from his cage that I had placed upright on a desk below a window. Looking over at him, I can't help but think about how pretty he looks with moon beams falling all over him and how heartbreakingly sad his music is.

Maybe I should let him go.

But then I think about my situation. I think about what my life was before the reaping two years ago. And a spark of anger starts in my heart. Then I think about my first Games, then my second, and then Peeta being taken away from me forever. And finally, my sister being blown up.

And then all of a sudden, I am screaming at the bird again.

"You deserve it!" I screech at it, I grab a glass that I had put on my bedside and throw it at its cage, the glass breaks against the aluminum bars with a clang. This startles him and he flutters nervously about his gold dome.

I yell foul things at this tiny creature. I tell him how he killed my sister and father. I accuse him of killing Finnick, Boggs, and Cinna.

I accuse him of taking the Peeta that I loved too late away from me. I grab his cage and shake it, his tiny muscles taking the shock against the aluminum. He cries and screams, and then I am begging for his forgiveness. Setting his cage down on the floorboards, I get on my knees and hold onto the bars of the cage.

"I'm so sorry Prim!" I sob. "I couldn't...I didn't..." The bird looks at me frightfully at first, but as I enter the dark hours of the night, he hops towards me on the bottom of his cage, his eyes looking at me sorrowfully. He is accusing me of things too. Of trapping him in a shoebox, in almost killing him, in stealing his freedom. But now it seems like he is telling me 'sorry' as well. Sorry for all you had to go through, Katniss. You didn't deserve all this, Katniss. I'm sorry you had to be their face, Katniss. He still loves you, Katniss.

He slowly hops towards me, tears staining my eyes, I let him softly peck my finger. It doesn't hurt though, and I think he's just saying a shy hello.

"I'm sorry, Bird." I say, calling him by his name.


	3. Chapter 3

Hunting for Peace

I begin to hunt on a regular basis. It's difficult, and part of me really doesn't want to try, but I do it anyways. Every once in a while I will give into my weakness and not leave my house for a few days. In these cases Greasy Sae will set my bird free and have it squawk and make noises until I get out of my bed and walk around.

I begin to understand my mother a little bit more. I understand how waking up in the morning for her was terrifying. While for me, my dreams would be excruiciating and my waking hours unbearable. There was no escape for me, no hour, no minute, no second was ever a moment of relief. I wonder if my mother's dreams were made up of happy moments with my father.

If so, she would have had it better than me. My dreams are filled with the people I've killed, the people who have tried to kill me, and the people I loved being killed.

Breakfasts with Peeta and Greasy Sae are just distractions of all the pain that I am thankful for. Sometimes, when it takes more strength than I have to swing my legs over the side of my bed, Peeta's voice floats up to my bedroom and that remaining amount of energy needed to dress and walk downstairs courses through me.

Only then can I slip on my hunting boots and trudge to the woods.

I don't go back to the lake, I'm definitely not ready for that. I'm not sure how I was able to go there for Peeta's katniss shoots that he probably didn't even eat. But terror and pain threaten to eat me up just by thinking about it.

Peeta and I sometimes make conversation. He asks a few "real or not real" questions every once in a while. I think Greasy Sae listens into our conversations sometimes. I think she might always be on the lookout to see if Peeta does something that might hurt me.

I'm not sure how she found out about his condition. Maybe Dr. Aurelius found someway to tell her.

One morning, I'm quietly eating freshly picked apples and water fowl eggs when Peeta looks up from his plate from across of me and says, "They told me I used to love you, real or not real?"

What a terrible feeling I felt then. Extreme sadness and anger flowed through my veins.

"Real."

"I think I loved you alot."

"Mmhh."

He stares at me. "But you didn't love me."

"No."

"You were in love with your cousin."

Now I'm confused. "My cousin?" I stop eating and look back at him. He looks like he's sorting things out in his mind.

"Yes, is that why you two aren't together? Because you're related?"

"What are you ...no. Are you talking about Gale? We're not related."

"Gale..." he says softly with a frown. "Oh, that's right. I thought he was your cousin."

I shake my head. "Do you remember him?"

He goes back to eating his eggs. I have to ask him again, because I don't think he heard me.

"Oh yes, I remember now. He was from the Seam. He was there in District Thirteen with us. The filming. Lots of fur."

I'm still a little unsure of what it is exactly he is talking about, but I think he might be half talking to himself. Quite possibly he's talking about being in Tigris's basement and remembering a few conversations he had with Gale.

Does he always have these memory lapses about things that have happened after his torturing in the Capitol?

He's quiet until I look up at him again, once he catches my gaze he asks, "Where is Gale?" He has a funny look on his face that I can't really read.

"He's in District Two."

He raises his eyebrows. "Oh. I'm sure you miss him."

He actually sounds like he means it. He says it with pity and kindness in his voice.

I don't feel like being pitied.

"Actually I couldn't care less."

He doesn't say anything. I think he thinks I'm lying to him.

"Really, Peeta. All I felt was relief when I heard he had gone."

Now he's the one who is in deep in thought. "Oh, why? You loved him, real or not real?"

I really hate this conversation.

Greasy Sae cocks her head towards us while she is washing the dishes, her hands scrubbing softly as to hear my every word.

I'm gritting my teeth and Peeta urges me on.

"Real, I loved him. But not what in the way you think."

It frustrates me even more that I can't read his face, where did he learn to hide his emotions so well?

Peeta just nods, his eyebrows knit together.

We're both quiet for a while and Greasy Sae goes back to wiping the dishes off with a dry rag.

I find myself eating slowly so I can spend as much time as possible eating beside him.

I wonder if he's doing the same thing.

Probably not.

"Thank you." Peeta says.

"For what?"

"Telling the truth."

* * *

><p>I get an idea. I want to put pictures and words about the people I have loved and lost into a book. That way no one could forget.<p>

But the thought of reliving memories makes me so tired, I put the thought behind me.

* * *

><p>One day I shoot a deer. It's a large, old doe, one that has probably birthed many fawns. Probably the matriarch and grandmother of more than one herd. She's so heavy that I can't drag her back into town.<p>

I go and ask Haymitch for help, but he slurs a no and slams his door in my face. I think about asking Thom for help but I can't find him. So I take a deep breath and sprint back to Peeta's house, knowing that there's little time before flies land and plant their maggots onto my catch, rotting my deer from the inside out. I've got an hour, tops.

Peeta answers the door with a familiar smile. But when he sees me, his smile disappears.

He laughs nervously. "Hehe. Shooting the sparrows around my house Katniss?" He closes his front door slightly.

I realize that I have made him suspicious. His mutt mind still has not entirely ruled out the fact that I might try to kill him.

And I can see why. I still have my bow in my hands, I'm barefoot and breathing hard. My hair is loose and tangled as I haven't seemed to remember to braid it in the morning. I have blood on my hands and I think some of it has swiped onto my face.

I put my weapon behind my back.

"I need your help." I pant.

"Oh?" He looks concerned and opens his door a little more, but then he seems to check himself and close it an inch again, as if he had forgotten I was dangerous.

"My deer. I can't carry her back to town. I need someone strong." I gesture back to the woods. "She's rotting as we speak."

"Oh, you were hunting. Well why didn't you say so." He says cheerfully and steps out beside me. He looks around towards the woods.

"Ah, why don't you lead the way."

We walk quickly back towards the forest. It's strange having Peeta walk this path that Gale and I have beaten down.

And it's even stranger when he slides under the fence right behind me.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter three.<strong>


	4. The Mind Changer

The Mind Changer

Peeta follows me without speaking. His feet are making all the noise. But I don't care how loud he is, just as long as we get to my deer in time.

I almost miss my hunting partner, but then I think about it, and I don't.

When I break out into a run Peeta picks up his pace, and I'm surprised he's able to catch up. He's actually not having that hard of a time following me through the forest. If only he wasn't so loud.

When we come to my doe, he looks at her with wonder as she lays there. "She's beautiful," he breathes.

I nod in agreement. "Beautiful and dead." I say proudly.

He grins. "I got to admit, I thought you had gotten yourself into trouble when you knocked on my door. All covered in blood and leaves."

I grin back, realizing how easy this venture was turning out to be.

I yank my arrow from out of her eye socket when Peeta pulls her head and shoulder, the heaviest part, off the ground. I go and pick up her legs and hips. We both huff and puff and shake under her weight. We have to put her down every once and a while.

During one of our breaks, Peeta and I are holding our sides and panting while leaning on a large tree when Peeta bursts into laughter.

At first I thought he had started crying or having a mental breakdown from the bloody corpse in front of us. I thought maybe he had gone mutt on me. But his eyes were sparkling with happiness.

The wide grin on his face is beautiful. I find I can't take my eyes off of him.

"What are you laughing at?"

"This." he pants. "I got a...major sense of deja vu."

He straightens up and runs his fingers through his blonde hair.

I stretch my shaky arms and cock my head at him. "What? Being in the woods? Does it remind you of our first Games?" Then I'm afraid, would the memory cause him to lose himself?

Peeta shrugs his shoulders, making his black t-shirt tighten around his shoulder muscles.

"That, and the second Games. You and me, in the forest. Only, this time we're not running for our lives. So that's a plus." He meets my eyes. My heart drops into my stomach.

Something deep echoes inside me. A small spark of hope. Could my Peeta still be in there somewhere?

Happiness begins to course through me. And it startles me when it does, and I don't know what to do with this feeling that doesn't burn, sting or lacerate me. I'm not exactly sure what to do with it.

I think I've been staring at him too long. Because he looks around him at the forest when I'm quiet and seems to shuffle awkwardly where he is. His shoulders also close in on themselves with a hint of suspicion. He clears his throat.

"Maybe we can make it to the fence this time. Then we won't have much of a walk back to your house. Is that where you usually skin these?"

I nod, "We should drain her first, then we can sell her pelt tomorrow. She'll be twenty good meals by tomorrow night." I say contentedly. "How much do you think people will pay us for her?"

"She's _your_ catch." He says picking up the doe alone. I grab her other half before he hurts himself. "_You_ get the money, and your the expert at this, not me."

"I don't need all this."

"Then maybe you should give it to Greasy Sae. That way she can give it to others. Maybe she can put it in some of her soup."

"How'd you know about that?"

"About what?" He steps over a fallen tree trunk and dodges bushes, leading the way.

"About what Greasy Sae sells."

Peeta rolls his eyes, "I'm not entirely clueless, Katniss. I've had her soup before. Amongst other things that used to be sold at the Hob..."

"You have?" I retort with surprise in my voice.

"Of course. Katniss, not all merchant kids are incapable of illegal activities."

My shoulders drop when I think about the Hob. "Well, it's not illegal anymore. The Hob is gone." I say, filled with nostalgia.

"That should be a good thing." Peeta says.

I look at him for a while. I try to picture Peeta Mellark inside what the Hob when it was still a thriving black market. I imagine the looks that must have been thrown at him and his blonde haired and blue eyed friends that had probably gone with him. Regulars probably thought they were trying to turn them into the Peacekeepers. But I wonder what he means, by having what went on in the Hob now legalized.

"Look there's the fence." Peeta says and he picks up pace a little. It's now that I've realized he's almost the size he was when he was sixteen. I'm glad he looks healthier. He doesn't limp anymore, not even in the slightest. He's nothing like Gale. No, nothing at all like him. I'm glad. I like the real Peeta.

We slide the doe under the lowest dead piece of barbed wire, then Peeta and I slide in after him. Our hands brush while we're crawling underneath on our stomachs.

He flinches, but I think that was just a natural reaction to an unexpected touch, because his eyes are still kind when we both stand up and brush ourselves off.

Mouths are gaping as we lug my game through the square and back to my house.

Many cry out prices for some of her flesh, but I refuse everyone. A few people follow us looking for handouts until I tell them to get lost.

I kick my back door open with my foot and we shuffle her down into my basement. We set her down and then I fetch a game hook to hang her from.

"Want me to hook her up?"

"We'll field dress her first. Lay her down here." I say.

After we finish field dressing her and removing most of her internal organs we hang her upside down to let her blood drain out and cool down completely.

After I wash my hands, Peeta and I go back upstairs to the living room.

"That was fun." He says. "Of course I was only there for half of the hunt. But it was still interesting to see."

"You've never skinned an animal before?"

"Oh, tons of squirrels. Some slightly larger game. But we could never afford deer or get any ourselves. I've never had venison before, at least not that I can remember. If I ever did it was in the Capitol."

"Oh," is all I say. I've had venison loads of times. "So, before our first Games, the biggest game you've ever had was a squirrel or a rabbit?

He looks like he's about to respond when he seems to remember something and his eye twitches, and his shoulders tense a little bit.

"Ah...I can't remember. But listen I've got to go. Maybe I'll see you tomorrow morning."

And then he hurridly rushes from the room and out of the door.

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><p><strong>Tell me what you think. You guys think it's a good story worth finishing? <strong>


	5. MIA

**Here's Chapter Five! Wow, I'm really liking these Reveiws. **

**I've always liked Reviews.**

**I do not own the Hunger Games. **

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><p>After Peeta had hurried out of my house, I had taken a shower. My heart had been dropped into my stomach and my legs had gotten weaker like they had just run a long distance.<p>

Though I didn't expect it, Peeta came for breakfast the next morning. He had placed two loaves of fresh bread on the table, had quietly sliced them, and didn't look up from his plate of food again.

After he had finished, he had washed and put away his plate, quietly uttered a goodbye, and left.

He didn't come the morning after that.

I didn't go hunting that day either.

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><p>I plan on spending my day sitting on the couch when the telephone rings. I run to it, thinking it might be Peeta.<p>

It's Dr. Aurelius.

"Hello Katniss, I'm surprised you answered."

"Well, I wasn't doing anything, so I thought I could spare you some time." I say, a little annoyed with myself. Why would Peeta call _me?_

He laughs. "You need to answer them more. It's been weeks since you last picked up your phone."

"Sorry," I say.

"So Katniss, tell me. How have you been spending your time?"

"I hunt." I say immediately. But then I ad, "Peeta and Greasy Sae come over for breakfast usually."

"Ah, so Peeta tells me."

I grit my teeth when he says this.

I'm quiet. Dr. Aurelius fills in the gap with a question. "So how are your sleeping habits?"

"Nonexistent," I answer. "Too many nightmares."

I go on and tell him about my nightmares about Prim and yellow birds. I also tell him how I always wake up screaming.

Dr. Aurelius listens intently and doesn't to claim to understand. I find I'm glad to have a pair of ears to listen to me.

"Tell me about these yellow birds, why do you think you're dreaming of them?" He asks.

"It's hard to explain. But I keep one as a pet."

"Oh yes, Peeta was telling me about that as well. I remember sending him the aluminum materials. But if the bird gives you nightmares, then why not get rid of it?" He suggests.

"I...yeah...yeah I guess I will."

"You take care of yourself now, Katniss."

"I will." I say softly. But then I think of something. "Ah, Dr. Aurelius?"

"Yes?"

"Um, remember when I told you about seeing Greasy Sae every morning?"

"Ah, yes. A neighbor of yours?"

"Yes, sort of. Well she seems to know about ...Peeta's condition. She watches closely, like she knows what might happen."

"You mean, she knows that he might go mutt?"

"Yes, I think so. You didn't warn her, did you?"

"No, Katniss that wasn't me. I'm not sure how she found out, but I'm sure if she knows, everybody else in your district knows, too."

I'm not sure how I feel about that.

"Oh," is all I say.

" And Katniss?"

"Yes?"

"You should look outside your front door more often. Maybe take a walk in the square. You might see a few things that will cheer you up."

* * *

><p>I don't go see the square. What could possibly be there? I sit on the couch for the next two days. A tiny spark of curiosity hits me. But I shove it down. I'm just too tired.<p>

Another day comes. No Peeta.

A week passes. No sight of him anywhere.

I try to go hunting after a week and a half. I catch one rabbit. Then I go home.

I took Peeta's advice and give three halves of my doe to Greasy Sae. She put it all in the soup. She said it disappeared within a few days.

I eat only the leftover venison I kept at my house until it runs out. I remember to wash my clothes all by myself. I remember to braid my hair. But that's about all I do for two weeks.

At the end of the fourteenth day without Peeta, I get angry.

Where could he be?

Could what I have frigthened him that bad? Did Dr. Aurelius tell him to avoid me? Is he avoiding me for my own good?

He could have called me. Maybe he's sick...

That convinces me to march over to my house.

I bang on his front door, ready to spit at him when he answers.

Except he doesn't answer.

I don't see any movement in any of the windows either.

"Hey, Sweetheart! He's not there." I hear someone yelling from across the street. I turn.

Haymitch is there in his yard, a bottle in his hand as he feeds the geese in his yard.

"You won't find him there." He says again.

I look at him. He's scruffy with tattered clothes, his hair is longer and he waddles over to where I'm standing.

"Well, then where is he?" I ask him when he gets close enough.

"He's in the square. Where he usually is." He says while taking a gulp from his whiskey.

"You smell."

He belches. "Maybe if you would have been around more you would know where he is."

"I see him everyday! Well, I used to, anyway."

I hear him mutter something as he drains his bottle.

"What?" I snap at him.

"I said, you should stop moping around and-" But I don't let him finish.

"Oh that's rich, coming from you!" I smack the bottle out of his hands.

He growls and lurches towards me, but I quickly step out of his path and he stumbles to the ground cursing and kicking up dirt.

I don't help him up like Peeta would. Instead I ignore his shouts and run towards the square. I run past the meadow and the collapsed houses until I'm finally at the cities center.

What I see makes my fists unclench and my mouth hang open.

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><p><strong>Sorry about the cliffhanger! <strong>

**This is when it starts to get good! This next chapter...will blow your socks off. Especially if you're a Peeta fan. **

**There will be excited squealing from the readers, guaranteed.**


	6. Winning Peeta's Battle

**Here's Chapter Six Guys! Super excited about the Reviews!**

**I do not own the Hunger Games.**

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><p>Winning Peeta's Battle<p>

People. So many people.

My District has begun to build. My ruined city has been replaced with freshly cut wooden beams constructed to form buildings. Women are sweeping the newly clay tiled ground with giant bristled brooms. Men are high up on building rafters and shouting instructions to the workers below.

In the very center of the town square, where what used to be the Hunger Games drawing podium, is a giant black hole. I realize that it's a fire pit. A very large firepit that could probably hold a car inside of it. It's filled with charred wood and left over coal.

The buildings are built around the firepit in a wide circle.

Though impressive in every way, this is not what amazes me.

What amazes me are the carts filled with food. There are rows upon rows of street vendors filled with fruits and vegetables, pigs and cows, brown and white grained breads, piles upon piles of meat and cheese. And _desserts. _So many different desserts! Peppermints, pies, cinnamon breads, cookies, _and h__ot chocolate._

All this is here? In my District? Really?

My mouth is pooling with saliva when I hear shouts coming from my left.

When I turn I realize I'm looking at a field beyond the city circle.

There are multiple huge metal machines rolling around in the freshly sown dirt. I'm not exactly sure what they do, but I know they must be preparing the field for planting food.

I walk around in a daze. I think I run into people, but I can't be sure.

You would think only the few elite rich people of the merchant class would be able to afford all this food. But no, I see children of the deepest parts of the Seam purchasing the richest foods.

I walk up to a vendor and peer at a choice of berry pie. The seller looks up at me. I'm surprised to see he's dark haired with gray eyes. That's interesting, if people from the Seam can now work in the town, whose working in the mines?

"Hello, Katniss. Are you looking for something in particular?"

I do not know this man. But he knows me. Of course, everybody in District 12 knows who I am.

I look down at his cart again. It's about the width of four men and placed on wheels. Probably so he can sell his goods anywhere he wants. Maybe people are forced to sell from these carts until their shops are finished.

His cart is covered with a deer pelt and napkins, the goodies and pastries on top.

A year ago, unless if you were Haymitch or Peeta, no one could not afford this. I guess me too. I guess I could afford it. But I really didn't bother in buying such luxurious things.

I reach into my pocket, but I find I have left all my coins at home.

"I forgot my money." I tell him.

He seems to find this funny. "You have also forgotten your shoes," he says with a laugh.

I look down at my feet. They are bare and covered with dirt and clay dust from the new cobble stones.

"Oh." I say. "Sorry, I'll come back another day."

"Here take this." He says with a wide grin. He reaches over and hands me a peppermint stick. "Free of charge."

I stare at it. What?

"Your just going to give it to me?" I ask incrediously.

He shrugs. "Sure, I've got plenty of others at home. They're cheap enough to make."

Apparently, my District is now so rich, people can afford to give things away.

"Thank you." I say softly. "Thank you very much."

He laughs. "It's good to see you here, Katniss. You've finally crawled out of your little den."

I try to smile at him, because I really want to. But I haven't smiled in so long, it's like learning to first walk.

I think I succeed.

"You come back now. Don't be a stranger," the vending man says.

"Goodbye." I say. And then I take my peppermint stick and walk the whole city circle in half an hour, slowly licking my candy.

It's after I finish my sweet that I remember that I'm looking for Peeta.

I don't find him.

I'm really beginning to get frustrated.

I begin looking in some of the unfinished buildings. Maybe he's helping with construction. He's strong enough to carry some of those beams.

Walking around these new shop buildings remind me of Peeta's old family bakery. It was simple enough with an open window to display pretty things like cakes. That I now know _he _decorated.

I stop where his bakery used to stand. The rubble that used to be here has been swept away, a new foundation has been set into place and one or two men are hammering nails into planks of wood.

I peer through the buildings skeleton.

"Katniss?"

I stop.

When I whirl around and see him a rush of emotion swings through me.

"Peeta!" I say, prepared to scold, but when I get a good look at him my eyebrows knit together.

"Peeta, you look...you look terrible! What happened to you?" He has bags under his eyes, he's lost just about as much weight as possible in the time span of two weeks, and his arms and hands have marks on them. Like he had to hurt himself in order to stay in reality and not go mutt.

He grins sadly. "It's okay, Katniss. I'm better now."

I step closer to him. I'm worried he might back away from me but he doesn't.

He just stands there, looking at me with kindness...and almost love.

"Did you...lose control?" I ask him quietly.

"Many times," he says with a sigh.

Some of the other men who have been working on the shop have stopped what they were doing and have begun to stare at us.

Peeta grabs my hand and pulls me around a pillar of concrete, masking us from any pair of wandering eyes. My heart begins to pound in my chest partly because of his closeness, and partly out of worry for him.

"What do you think set you off? It wasn't me was it?"

He stares at me for a while, a knowing look on his face.

"Oh, Peeta. I can stay away for a while, if that will help-"

"No!" He says it rather loudly. "No, stay. Don't go anywhere."

I realize he still hasn't let go of my hand, and his face is only a few feet from mine.

" But if I make you worse..."

"You help me Katniss. You really do. It helps to have you around, eating breakfast with you...that helps. Dr. Aurelius agrees."

Some of my anger returns. "Peeta you haven't been to breakfast for weeks!"

I try to pull my hand out of his, but he holds onto it tight. A tiny part of me tells me to be afraid, but for some reason his eyes tell me to trust him.

His face falls. "I know. I'm sorry. That was for your own good. I might have hurt you. Those two weeks... that whole time, I was not myself." He says with a shake of his head.

"The whole time?" I ask softly.

"I had a...an epiphany, I guess you could say." He says with a sad chuckle, holding my hand up to his face.

He looks around us, most of the workers have gone back to what they were doing.

Someone calls Peeta's name.

"Listen, Katniss. I have to explain something to you. But not here, not now. Tonight. Here in the square...well, now it's a circle...but, can you meet me? The city is especially beautiful at sunset."

"Okay, where?" Is say, hardly able to contain my excitement.

"The bonfire...it will be lit. You can see it from miles around. I have to stay here for the rest of the day and help out. Promise you'll come?"

Two people shout for him this time.

"I promise."

There are butterflies in my stomach.

He takes a deep breath, and grins. Then, out of the blue, he leans over and presses a kiss onto my forehead.

"See you at sunset." Then he's gone.

* * *

><p>I had walked around the circle for another hour in a greater daze than I had before I saw Peeta.<p>

My mind had been whirring and trying to sort all of the things that had happened.

Peeta disappears for two weeks. He's in the town every day. I find him. He says he had an epiphany. He wants me to meet him at sunset. He kisses me on the forehead.

What is going on?

_This could be his plan,_ something sinister whispers in my head. _This is how he could steal your life away._

No. No, Peeta is real. Peeta is my friend. Peeta wouldn't do that.

I had run back to my house where I had flung myself onto my couch where I'm sitting now.

A mixture of fear and happiness whirls inside me like a great funnel. What a strange mixture of feelings this is.

I sit there for many hours, watching the sun move and trying to figure out what I'm going to do.

Maybe I should slip a knife into my boot in case he attacks me.

He won't attack me.

But he might.

There will be people around, won't there?

It'll be at night.

I'll take my chances.

Your funeral.

I grab my head with my hands and try to make it stop spinning. Why, oh why did he kiss me on the forehead?

I try to calm myself by bringing Birds cage into my living room with me. He chirps and hops around alot and looks at me curiously.

I feed him seeds from a jar that Greasy Sae's granddaughter had given me.

I try to sing the song he's singing but it doesn't really work out, my voice is so raspy.

I take a bath and try to scrub dead flakes of skin off of my burn scars. I brush my hair because it's getting so long and tangly. I braid it back nicely. I almost look like myself again.

I sit down on my bathroom floor and tell myself to calm down. And that's where I remain, simmering with suspicion until sunset is just a few minutes away.

I've made my decision.

I leap up from the bathroom floor and run into my basement, I grab a carving knife and slip it into one of my boots beneath the flat of my foot, concealing it.

When I open my front door I'm startled at how dark it is. Night has already taken over.

The sun sets so fast these days, summer must be coming. So I stand there in the night until my eyes adjust and then I'm running again.

I suppose if any of my neighbors-Haymitch-saw me, he would think I was up to no good, sneaking off like this in the middle of the night, running at top speed.

Maybe I am getting myself into trouble.

I stop, breathing hard I look towards the city circle.

I can see the bonfire alright. It's lit, just as Peeta said it would be.

Why haven't I noticed it before? It's glowing so brightly you could see it from the forest! I guess I really haven't looked outside my window in a while.

I see a few figures besides the fire, they look like ants compared to the great roaring of the flames, which are so tall they look like they could rob the stars right out of the sky. They are much higher than any building. Wide too. I wouldn't want to fall into that fire.

What if Peeta pushes me into the pit?

I have to shake my head. He wouldn't do that.

I force myself to walk calmly to it. No matter how frightened I am, I cannot deny how excited I am to see Peeta's face.

I catch a glimpse of the moon as I enter the city. It's round and a burnt orange, the fullest I've ever seen it.

I normally would stop to admire it's beauty, but I have more important matters on my mind.

I'm in front of the bonfire now. It's flames reflecting onto my skin, warming me. The late spring air holds a soft beeze, and it blows against my face, cooling me down.

A few street vendors are packing up their carts and heading home. The flaming shadows licking them and making them look like they're on fire, coloring the people orange. But of course, they're not.

It's so beautiful, I almost forget why I'm here.

Until someone speaks behind me.

"You should wear flames more often. They suit you."

I freeze.

I look behind me. And there, standing in the firelight, is a man on fire. His blonde hair practically glowing, his blue eyes shimmery. I am left breathless at how handsome he looks.

"You came." He says, awe and wonder in his voice.

"I said I would." I say.

He walks up to me slowly, never taking his eyes off me.

We're both quiet for a while. So I break the silence, "I never knew this was here. Do they light it every night?"

Peeta nods. "Yes. They use some of the ruined buildings as fuel. There's alot of rubble to get rid of."

"It's beautiful." I say quietly.

"Yes," he agrees. "But I need to apologize, Katniss."

"For disappearing? That's alright, you already explained why."

"That, but also for something...bigger. Something that I live with every day."

I'm not really sure what he's trying to say, so I wait for him to elaborate.

"I mean, I feel awful. Just _terrible."_

_"_Peeta you've done nothing wrong..."

"Yes, I have." He steps forward and places his hands on my shoulder gently. My heart pounds in my chest. _Boom. Boom. Boom._

He starts slowly and picks up pace as he talks.

"I used to think...that nothing, not anything could ruin my love from you. I thought I would die being so in love with you. In a way it was a curse. I ruined you. I almost forced you to marry me-"

"What? Peeta..."

"No listen! Please listen...I..I _wanted_ to love you. I _liked_ loving you. I was always planning on being there for you, if nothing else, just as your friend. But I didn't. And I am sorry. I left you, I abandoned you. I almost _killed _you."

He lets of go of me on the word _killed_, and shakes his head in disgust at himself.

He's talking about the Hijacking. He's _apologizing_ for being highjacked. It's hard to breathe.

"I don't know what I would have done if I had killed you in those two weeks that I had gone. Ever since I had come back from District Thirteen. I wanted to be near you. To hear your voice. I was falling in love with you all over again. I mean, I am. I _am_ falling in love with you."

I think my hands are shaking.

I'm surprised at how calmly I answer him. "But?"

"But nothing. It's true. I am." He grabs my hands that have fallen to my sides and picks them up with his, holding them level with his.

What did he just say? Okay, I think it's time I wake up now.

"The last two weeks. I was fighting it. My head was telling my heart not to love you. It was a war, going inside of me. That's what those two weeks were. My battle."

Peeta has rushes this all out in such a short time that he has to pause and take a breathe.

I take a while to take it all in. Minutes pass and Peeta waits patiently as I find the right thing to say.

Minutes pass.

I say something, but I don't think he heard me, I said it so quietly, so frightfully. "Did you win?" I ask it timid as a little girl.

But he does hear me.

His smile is so flashingly wide, that I'm confused when his eyes start to water, and his voice chokes up when he says it.

"Yes. I have won."

And right when he says it, he pulls me into his arms and hugs me. His warm arms encircling me and he rests his cheek on the top of my head. His hands stroking my hair.

I close my eyes and breathe him in. My heart is going so fast it feels like it could leap out of my chest and start flying around.

He holds me for a long time. And I don't mind it one bit. I listen to his heart and take him all in. The sound of his breath, the strength in his arms, the very soundness of him.

It must have been an hour but it felt like just a few minutes when he lets me go.

His eyes are red, and I see that he has been crying. I am filled with so much heartache at his tears that I quickly wipe them away and kiss his cheek. He grins like he's embarrassed.

I realize that I'm smiling so wide my cheeks hurt.

He tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear. "I'm so sorry." He whispers.

He is incredible.

"Peeta?" I ask softly.

"Yes?"

"I forgive you."

He sighs and closes his eyes.

"Thank you."

* * *

><p>We have been sitting on the warm ground in front of the flames for a long time, hours maybe. Peeta's arms have been around me, his cheek pressed up against mine as we both stare into flames.<p>

Every once in a while he'll plant another one of his kisses on my head, sometimes my cheeks, my eyelids. But never my lips.

I find I want him to kiss me on the lips. But he never does.

My heart is so happy, it begins to hurt.

It's a good pain though.

Peeta's arms and the warm glow of the fire almost puts me to sleep. But I force myself to ask him a question in order to stay awake.

"Why did you stop me from eating the nightlock? When I killed Coin?"

He seems surprised at my question.

"Hmm." I can feel the sound vibrate through him and into me. "I guess I didn't want to come home without you." He says thoughtfully. He gives me a soft squeeze when he says it.

"Do you wish I hadn't?" He asks sadly.

"Sometimes," I say. Then I decided to answer truthfully. "Most of the time."

I see from out the corner of my eye that he looks concerned but he doesn't say anything.

Another question pops in my head.

"Peeta, how does Greasy Sae know about your condition?"

Recognition flickers in his eyes. "Oh, I told her. I wanted her to know, so that she would know what to do if I ever went rogue."

"Oh," I say. "You've thought of everything." My eyelids struggle to stay open.

I realize my leg has already fallen asleep and I try to wiggle it a little to flow more blood into it.

Peeta gives a short laugh. "I don't fall short when it comes to your safety."

I move my leg to the side and adjust my ankle, a sharp pain strikes up from the bottom of my foot.

I wince. My face was turned so I'm not sure he noticed, so he keeps calmly stroking my hair.

I try to shove my foot back to where it was, but the movement drives the knife up into my flesh, reaching my bone.

I start and give a yelp.

"What?" Peeta asks frightfully.

"Um...nothing. Just... give me a minute." I say strained. I pull myself out of his arms as he lets go of me and stands up.

I stretch out my legs and compose myself.

"I think I might have stabbed myself." I say nonchalantly.

Peeta cocks his head in confusion and offers me his hands, I take them and stand on one foot.

"What?"

I slip off the boot with the knife in it.

Peeta looks slightly hurt at the sight of it but he hides it well.

"You brought a knife?"

"I...always keep one."

"It's alright. I'm glad you brought it."

What he does next surprises me, even though I should have been used to it by now.

He bends over and picks me up and cradles me.

"I'll carry you home."

I tuck my head into the crook of his neck and shoulder and rest my cheek there.

He starts humming as he walks back to my house.

I watch the giant burnt orange moon behind us he carries me, the sight slowly growing smaller as he puts more distance between the moon and I.

"The moon..." I say vaguely because Peeta's steps are rocking me back to sleep. "It's your favorite color."

My eyelids are drooping when he laughs softly but doesn't say anything.

He kicks open my front door and carries me inside, his strong arms steady.

"Can you believe this, Bird?" He whispers to my pet as we pass his cage. "She went ahead and stabbed herself!"

Bird chirps in an agreeable tone of annoyance at me.

I laugh a little, but I'm so tired that it comes out weak.

He swiftly brings me up the staircase and into my bedroom.

He sets me down gently on my bed and slips off my other boot as I lay my head down on my pillow, ready to say goodnight to the world and fall into a deep sleep and dream of Peeta.

"Don't go anywhere," he says authoratively.

"Couldn't if I tried." I slur.

Peeta rummages around in my bathroom till he finds the closest thing to bandages and alcohol and comes back.

I'm already half asleep as he cleans my foot and wraps the cloth around my wound. Then he tucks me in and just as I'm about to let go, he leans over and whispers something in my ear.

"You're right about the moon. But it's not as beautiful as you, girl on fire."

And then I fall deep into unconsciousness.

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><p><strong>So.<strong>

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	7. The Book

**So did you guys like the last chapter? It was definitely the part where things really start picking up the pace. **

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><p>The Book<p>

I wake up screaming.

Breathing hard, I sit up in my bed. The sun is shining through my window making everything too bright and I have to shield my eyes from it.

I swing my legs over the side of my bed and stand up.

When a stinging sensation flashes through the flat of my foot I give a breathy shriek and crawl back ontop of my bed to inspect it.

It is covered with bandages, and blood has almost soaked through it.

How did I get this? I don't remember.

But when his laugh float up the stairs, through my bedroom air, and into my ears it all comes crashing down on me.

The town. The sunset. The bonfire. The apology. The boot. The knife. The arms. The moon.

I strain my ears to hear his voice again, my heart squeezing tight with feeling.

He's talking and Greasy Sae is laughing.

This time I stand on my good foot and holding onto the wall I hop my way to the door.

The laughter stops as I accidentally make a particularly loud hop onto the creaky wood floors.

"Katniss?" Peeta asks. "You want some help?"

I'm standing at the top of the staircase now, looking down at the two of them as they look up at me from the kitchen. Peeta's blonde hair is striking compared to Greasy Sae's dark complexion.

I nod sheepishly.

Peeta quickly scales the staircase and just like last night, I am in his arms again.

He carries me like I'm a thin piece of glass that he can crush with one wrong move.

He sets me down carefully in a chair and sits across from me.

We meet each other's eyes and then flick them away quickly all during breakfast.

Peeta and Greasy Sae talk smoothly, and the old cook asks me questions about my foot which I answer calmly. I'm sure my accident is what she and Peeta were laughing about earlier.

When Peeta and I finish our plates, we put them in my sink together. I scrub very slowly so I can stand on one foot beside him for the longest period of time.

His shoulders are mere inches from mine as we face the same direction and rinse the last plate.

Peeta gives a sigh and smiles at me. When he looks like he's about to leave I try to say something to make him stay.

"Wait! Uh...could you show me your bakery today?"

He gives me a quizzical look. "Oh, sure. But there's still just a foundation up. Not too exciting."

"Well... I wanted to see more of the town. Could you show me?"

He laughs and nods. "Okay, Katniss," as if he knows I'm pulling things out of thin air.

* * *

><p>We walk around the city circle side by side for a long time. Peeta points out what buildings will eventually become shops and which ones will be warehouses. When we come to his bakery-in-progress, I stare up at the beams that will form the roof.<p>

"It's smaller than the last one." I say quietly.

"We used to live above it. There were five of us then. With only me, well...I don't need that much space."

I stop. "You're moving in when it's finished?"

Peeta turns and looks at me. "That was my initial plan, yes."

"Oh." I keep walking and Peeta falls into step beside me.

"Something wrong?" He asks.

"Were you planning to move out because it was difficult living beside me?"

We're walking through a large group of people and food vendors now, and we have to dodge a few running kids.

"In the beginning." He says.

We stop in the center, right before the bonfire pit gapes wide.

I remember last night.

"Katniss?" Peeta asks me quietly. I think because I have been staring off in the distance for a while.

He stands beside me. I flinch when he slips his hand into mine and squeezes.

"I won't be that far away. But if it bothers you that much...I can stay next door."

"That's stupid. If you've already started to build..."

Peeta rolls his eyes. "I told you. I'm not the same person that was in District Thirteen. I care about you now."

I look up at him. "You do?"

Peeta laughs. "Katniss I told you last night. I told you everything last night."

"I thought maybe...you were just saying those things..."

"I'm not a liar, Katniss. Not to you at least."

He brings his hand up to my cheek. His blue eyes look sad.

"I'm sorry I-"

"Don't say your sorry." I interrupt him. "The last thing I want you to do is apologize again." He stays quiet.

He has both hands on my face now. My entire being is nervous and alive.

"Can you not leave? Could you ...stay?" I ask it so shyly it doesn't sound anything like me.

He smiles sadly. But then I see a flicker of recognition in his face. I wonder if he'll say it.

"Always."

* * *

><p>After Peeta had finished showing me the town and some of the corn fields, he shows me some of the mines that collapsed during the Capitol's bombing. He explains that there are only a few mines left that didn't cave in. So the miners had to find other work. But it wasn't too hard to find, most of the miners began to till the ground to plant corn and other food.<p>

Now, men and women come home smelling like fresh air and satisfication instead of coal dust and a relief at being alive.

Beyond the city circle, crop fields stretch on for a few miles or so, but the District plans on expanding.

We walk hand in hand back to my house, and when I ask him if he wants to come inside he says yes.

We release Bird in our living room and watch him fly and sing happily around the room. But it's harder to get him back inside his cage so Peeta has to lay a trail of seeds till we shut the door behind him once he's inside.

Once Bird is safely in hid cage I tell Peeta, "Dr. Aurelius wants to me to set him free."

"And are you going to?"

I shrug. "I guess I got used to hearing him sing."

Peeta looks out the living room window. "Summer is here. I love summer."

Then he turns to me. "Your favorite color is green?"

"Yes. And yours is orange." Peeta nods in agreement. I remember what he said before I fell asleep last night, about him calling me beautiful and a blush spreads onto my face.

I can tell Peeta is remembering too, because a soft grin spreads across his face.

I feel the need to say something so I say, "Thanks for showing me around the town today."

He walks over and shrugs when he's in front of me. "It was time for you to see it. Instead of spending all your time in solitude."

"I like solitude. I can think when I'm alone."

Peeta thinks I mean to tell him it's time for him to leave, so he sighs and gives me a hug. I cherish every moment in his arms.

"It was nice seeing you today."

I grin against his shoulder. But I don't want him to leave so an old idea comes into my mind.

"Peeta? I have this idea that I was wondering if you could help me with it."

He lets me go. "Oh?"

"I was thinking...so many people we know have died." I stutter on that last word. "Maybe we could make something to make sure nobody could forget."

Peeta listens closely to my idea for the book. He says he would love to help, and he agrees to stay after breakfast tomorrow to start it.

After he leaves, the sun is setting and there isn't much to do so I just climb into my bed and impatiently wait for tomorrow.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Peeta brings two giant baskets of cheesebuns and he laughs at my ecstatic expression at them.<p>

"You remembered!" I say with a little too much enthusiasm. Peeta gives two whole rolls to Greasy Sae's granddaughter.

"I'm trying to remember everything." He says quietly. "I'll get there. Someday."

After breakfast Peeta pulls out a package that I hadn't seen him come in with.

"What is that?" I ask.

"Paper. I thought maybe you could use it."

Oh. Why didn't I think of that? It didn't even across my mind. Of course you need paper for something like this.

It's good paper too, not the flimsy stuff we used when we were in school.

"Where did you get this?"

"Dr. Aurelius sent it. I use some of it for my sketches. But this is much more important. Not quite enough for what you're thinking of though."

"That's alright." I say with a shrug. "It'll be a good start."

All day long we work on it. It's quiet between us until Peeta starts asking questions about our childhood.

It becomes comfortable between us and our conversation slowly but surely begins to flow smoothly.

He asks real or not real questions and I answer them as best I can.

We start with the less painful memories first. I start with my father, it fills me with nostalgia and hurt but it's old enough that I can brave through it.

I show Peeta the picture and he looks at it a long time, maybe he's trying to place the face.

After a while he says, "Oh yeah, I remember him singing."

Peeta binds the pages and I glue my fathers picture onto the first sheet and write a few words about him.

After we've worked for a few hours, Peeta looks up at me with a chuckle.

"I bet the night at the bonfire was quite a shock for you."

"It was beautiful." I say.

He looks confused at my answer.

"Beautiful how?"

"Well...the new city, it's great. And the stars were out, summer came. If only...I felt a little better." Peeta knows what I mean.

"One day things will be good again, Katniss. They can't be bad forever."

I shake my head and sigh. "I'm not quite so hopeful."

Peeta reaches over and rests his hand on mine. He's sitting cross legged on the floor across from me and leans forward. I think he might kiss me, but he doesn't, he just rests his forehead on mine.

"I promise you. Things will be good."

After that, Peeta packs his pencils and pulls me into another long hug. Peeta promises to stay again tomorrow while Bird sings a goodbye and I watch him walk back to his house from an upstairs window.

* * *

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	8. Keeping Peeta

Keeping Peeta

Peeta keeps his promise and returns every day that week. Each day, he brings a few more sheets of paper and pencils and sometimes paints. He draws the most beautiful pictures of the people I don't have photos of.

Today, he's captured Finnick and Annie perfectly on their wedding day.

"That was a beautiful wedding." Peeta comments while I watch him draw.

"Pretty cake, too." I say softly.

"Did you like it? Frosting it was therapeutic for me. I wasn't doing very well."

Peeta's face has turned into a frown at the thought of District Thirteen.

We're both on the floor, I'm splayed out on my stomach and Peeta uses the coffee table.

I look over at him. "One day," I say. "I'm believing you would hate me forever. And the next, Haymitch is telling me that you want to talk. You had already come so far."

He meets my eyes with an appreciative look in them. It feels good to give him compliments. I don't give those out nearly enough.

"Thanks." He says lightly. "That conversation...back in Thirteen, that was painful for you. Real or not real?"

I hesitate. "What conversation?"

"Those things I said to you. Right after the wedding. About you not being fair and not particularly pretty."

I actually hadn't thought about that in a long time, what with everything else going.

"No, not really." We're both quiet. I sigh and revise. "Yes, but not in the way you're thinking. It was painful because a friend had forgotten me. Not because you accused me of things. And _don't _say your sorry." I say quickly when he opens his mouth.

He chuckles darkly. "All those memories were jumbled. I was so confused. I didn't really care if I hurt anybody's feelings. That's changed now." He smiles kindly at me.

I'm feeling brave today, something that I haven't been in a long time. So I reach over and hold his hand. He takes it gratefully and draws with one arm.

We work until late afternoon, when Peeta says, "How about some dinner?"

I've only eaten breakfast all day and am now hungry, something that I haven't been in a very long while.

"Sure. I caught three rabbits yesterday."

"Bread and rabbit? Sounds good to me."

We work quietly and comfortably. I skin and dress the biggest rabbit while Peeta pulls out the loaves he had been baking in my oven.

I go to hang the rabbits pelt in the basement.

While I'm coming up the stairs, I hear a crash and a breaking of dishes.

I slow down on the staircase.

"Peeta?" I ask cautiously up to the kitchen.

He doesn't answer. Someone turns on the water from the kitchen sink.

My heart starts to thump rapidly with nervousness. Just seconds ago it was beating extremely slow with calmness, now my rapidly increasing temperature is making me lightheaded.

"Peeta?" I call again.

I hear a moan and I climb the last few steps and peer around the wall to see Peeta at the kitchen sink, head down , with his hands pressed against his eyes. I wonder if he's sick.

"Peeta, what's wrong? Are you sick?"

But I know what his real problem is. I know what he's fighting with.

I take a few steps towards him. I guess he heard me coming up the stairs because without turning around he says, "No, Katniss! Go back downstairs, I'm too dangerous right now."

I'm actually surprised he has enough control to tell me that, so I don't go anywhere and just stare at him.

He's breathing hard with an arm under the water faucet. I can see his skin scalding under what looks like boiling water. He's burning himself to stay in reality.

He turns his head towards me rapidly then, and I can see his strained expression and dialated eyes.

"Get back!" He yells loudly. "Back up!"

I shuffle slowly back, my joints stiff with fear. How easily could he stride over to me and choke me to death? I suppose I could run. He wouldn't be able to catch me.

Peeta turns back to burning himself. I think he's mumbling things to himself, reassurances that I won't try to kill him.

"Peeta-"

But I'm interrupted by a crash when Peeta siezes a large glass he had been drinking out of and throws it at the wall. I flinch.

Silence. No one breathes. Bird has stopped singing.

Peeta shuts off the water and sinks to the ground and begins to cry.

And just like that, it's over.

"I'm so sorry Katniss."

That is how I know Peeta has come back to me.

I run over to where he's sunk to the ground and wrap my arms around him.

He opens his and pulls me onto his lap, crying over my shoulder.

"I didn't want you to see that."

"I've seen worse things." I try to say soothingly.

"I-I wanted to kill you." I can feel his wet tears on my neck.

"You wouldn't have."

"Yes. Yes I would have. Katniss... you can't be that close. It's just too dangerous."

"Sssh." I stroke his head. "I trust you."

We sit there until the sun sets and night falls.

Silence completely envelopes the house.

Greasy Sae comes to see if we had dinner. We didn't.

She comes quietly through the front door, takes one look at us in each others arms on the kitchen floor, and then just as quietly leaves.

The moonlight shining through the window reflects on us, making our skin look ghostly.

"Katniss." Peeta whispers, not wanting to end the quiet.

"Hmm?"

"You have terrible nightmares. Real or not real."

"Real." I say. "How did you know? Or did you just guess?"

"I can hear you screaming...it's terrible."

"Oh! I'm sorry. Do I keep you awake?" I ask slightly blushing.

"No. I don't really sleep either. It's just...hard to hear you in that much pain."

I'm not really sure what to say, so I stay quiet.

"We used to sleep together at night. Real or not real?"

This memory hurts me. "Real. Your arms comforted me, I didn't have nightmares with you close by."

"Oh."

Peeta lets go of me for the first time in many hours. I feel disappointed when he does. Then he stands up and looks down on me and offers me his hand.

I take it and let him help me up off the floor. When I'm standing beside him, he rests his forehead against mine, his arms wrapping around my waste.

"This will be very dangerous."

"I can handle it." I say, our voices still a whisper, my brain slowly putting together what's happening.

"Are you afraid."

"Yes." I answer truthfully.

"Good."

Holding my hand, he leads me up the staircase and into my bedroom.

We don't change any of our clothes, but just stay in what we're wearing. I think we're both too cautious to drift off track, one of us, probably Peeta, would declare it as too dangerous if he thought about it too much.

We slide under my blankets with Peeta laying on his back, and I curl beside him, my head and left arm resting on his chest. His arms encircle me tighter as he breathes me in.

"Did you mean what you said?" I mumble into his shirt, my eyelids growing heavy already.

"About what?"

"About me. Being more beautiful than the moon."

I can feel his grin against the top of my head.

"Yes. In so many ways." He gives a tired yawn.

"What ways."

"The moon is beautiful, but mysterious. You're the most mysterious thing I've ever seen. I have no idea what to do with you." He gives me a squeeze and light chuckle.

I think a while on that. The comment makes me happy.

"Thank you."

"Your welcome."

"Not for that. But for coming to District Twelve."

I bend my neck to see his expression. It's serene and sleepy. His eyelids are fluttering.

I think he means to say, "It's my home, Katniss." But through his tiredness, it comes out as "You're my home, Katniss."

* * *

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	9. The Suspicious Dream

**I do not own the Hunger Games**

The suspicious dream

I am running barefoot through the forest.

The tree branches reach their gnarled fingers at me and tangle themselves in my hair, trying to pull every follicle out of my scalp.

I stop and take the knife strapped to my hip and slice off my hair, chopping it as short as a boy's.

I look back once, and see my dark veil fall to the ground, and for a moment, I wonder why it isn't in a braid.

But I can't lose focus.

Someone is chasing me.

They're fast.

Faster than me.

Which makes me think that it might not be human. A lynx, a mountain lion, a wolf.

A something.

My lungs burn hotter as the sun goes down, but I keep running.

And running.

I run until I run out of forest.

The forest just _ends._

It ends like a short life.

One minute there is earth beneath my feet, and the next they're struggling in thin air, falling into the darkness below.

I give a terrified scream as I fall through the space, then I feel myself splatter onto some concrete, my bones flattening, my blood spilling, my lungs collapsing, my heart forfeiting.

I can hear someone wailing over my fallen body, his voice husky out of grief.

I can feel his fingers scrape at my pancaked organs. I can feel his tears mixing in with my blood as it flows away from it's origin.

He's calling my name in fright and pain, his lips kissing what used to be my head.

I didn't know people go on feeling even when they're dead.

How incredibly terrible this is.

Being aware of your broken body for all eternity, and not able to move anything...is monstrous.

I'm thankful that I can be out in the open so my loose and rolling eyeballs can see what's around me, and not buried somewhere under the ground, where all you can see is dirt and worms.

Then something amazing happens.

With each kiss he gives me, Peeta puts me back together.

He directs the rivers of my blood on the concrete back into my veins.

He inflates my organs and swivels my eyes back into my skull. He hinges my bones back to their ligaments and sews my skin back together with pinpoints.

He blows his own air into my lungs and tells me he's falling in love with me, and that I can't die, because I'm his home.

My lungs begin to vacuum air on their own, my blood begins to clot, my muscles now in my control.

He doesn't say it, but he wants to shape my heart into one that will love him back.

But he knows that all he wants is purely me, with no changes.

He's prepared to live his life being just my friend.

I will not stand for that.

With my newly reconstructed arms, I take his face and press my lips to his.

He kisses me back and a fire and a love starts in my belly. I can taste his tears on my tongue.

He grips my head and kisses me back feverishly, whispering my name between each kiss.

As he holds me, I become a whole scars are lifted off of my skin, sealed over with Peeta's amity.

My bruises turn yellow, my heart begins to pump.

I have to tell him the truth. So I do.

"I love you." I sigh.

"I love you." He says confidently. A kindness and a love reflecting onto me.

"Katniss! Wake up!"

I struggle to open my eyes, my lungs gasping in revelation.

" Your dreaming!"

Dreaming? That was a dream?

No! That can't have been. It was so awful, then so awfully amazing.

I did not want it to be a dream.

I finally conquer my heavy eyelids and see Peeta hovering above me.

His eyes frightened and perplexed.

"I couldn't wake you up! Do you know how much that scared me?"

"Sorry..." I murmur. "A bad dream."

I prop myself onto my elbows and blink at the sunlight streaming through my bedroom window. My heart begins to slow at the sight of him.

Peeta is sitting in the bed next to me, his mouth hanging open and hands shaking.

"Peeta it's okay. Really, I'm fine. Did I scream again?" I say turning my torso towards him. Though frightened looking, his eyes aren't dilated. I know I'm safe.

"Yes...I just never heard you scream like that before."

"I'm sorry, again. I thought maybe I wouldn't have nightmares anymore, but I guess not."

He looks at me as he reaches his hand at me and rests it on my cheek, then runs it through my loose hair.

"My hair..." I say softly. "I dreamed I had cut it."

"I figured it was something like that." Peeta says slowly. "You were clawing at it."

"Hmm."

We're both quiet as we wait for my heart to slow. Peeta combs my hair with his fingers. We can hear Bird singing downstairs.

It's beautiful.

I think I hear Greasy Sae banging pots and pans around, and something delicious smelling floats into our nostrils.

"I'm glad you didn't cut it." He says then, his voice growing calmer. "I've always loved your hair."

"Thank you for staying with me." I say kindly, rapidly recovering from my dream.

With Peeta here, I've noticed, it takes less time to feel okay again.

"Your welcome." He says contentedly. "I enjoyed it...I mean, I didn't lose control, and that's a good thing."

I nod, realizing that I can't stop looking at Peeta's lips as he speaks.

"Want some breakfast? Sae's making something."

"Sure," he says as he throws the blanket off him and swings his legs over the side.

When we walk down the staircase, Greasy Sae sees us and for a split second I see her eyes widen, but then she goes back to her cooking and tries to hide her surprise at our sleepover.

Peeta is still wearing the same clothes he did yesterday, so he walks over to his house to change and bring more loaves of bread and art supplies.

I change and braid my hair back, and then sit at the table to wait for Peeta to return.

Out of the corner of my eye I can see Greasy Sae look me up and down to make sure I'm not hiding any bruises or cuts from him.

I pretend I didn't see her and try to remember the night before.

We had worked on our book, then Peeta had a flashback, he burned himself, tears, then we went upstairs.

How did we make that jump?

Better yet, what did my dream mean?

Do I really love him?

But my thoughts are interrupted by an athletic blonde boy as he lets himself into my house carrying a big box and more cheese buns.

He sets the box down in the living room and sits besides me at my kitchen table.

Greasy Sae feeds us our meal and then takes her leave, I call a thank you as she heads out the door. She seems surprised that I have remembered to thank her, but she just huffs a ' your welcome', and calls her granddaughter.

Peeta and I eat our meal quietly.

I can tell something is on Peeta's mind, so I try to work up the courage to ask him what he's thinking about.

"Penny for your thoughts." I say shyly.

He answers immediately, a fork halfway to his mouth.

"You said something in your sleep."

I stop.

I only said one thing in my dream last night.

"Oh?" I say, trying to act nonchalant.

"Yeah," He says and takes a cheese bun from the basket. "I couldn't make it out at first. But then...I got it."

He looks at me, his expression looks like someone just said something funny.

But I don't remember cracking any jokes.

I struggle for words. "Well...what was it?" I cross my arms over my chest.

Peeta sets his fork down onto his plate and takes a swig of water from his glass. Afterwards he looks at me in the eye, a questioning look in it.

Seconds tick by.

We're still staring at each other, trying to figure out what the other one is thinking.

I think he can sense my awkwardness, I think he can see my discomfort.

"You were very upset about your hair. You said you regretted cutting it."

He shoves another cheese bun in to his mouth.

I take a sigh of relief. He knows what I was dreaming. I'm just glad he didn't say it out loud.

It was just a dream.

It didn't mean anything.

I will never tell him that I love him.

We finish our breakfast, and then work on our book in the living room.

We're both quiet as we think about what just happened.

I tell myself to forget about it, and focus on the page we're dedicating to Rue.

I carefully write about Rue's cleverness, about her singing voice and how she used to call District Eleven home after a hard day's work.

I write about how she used to jump from tree to tree and how she showed me where the Tracker Jacker's nest was.

When I finish writing, I lean over Peeta's shoulder to watch him work.

He's painted a beautiful, dark child on her tiptoes, eyes trained towards the sky. I give him a peck on his cheek and tell him it's beautiful, hoping it will help him relax.

It works.

We spend the rest of the day extra conscious of the other.

We often sneak side ways glances at each other.

When the day is done, Peeta takes me up the stairs again without a word. He tucks me in and kisses me again on the forehead.

"Thanks for not saying it." I say into the dark.

I can hear him grinning.

"It's okay. It was the thought that counted," He answers.

He chuckles and quietly falls asleep.

* * *

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	10. Because Days Have Wings

**I do not own the Hunger Games**

Because days have wings

After that, Peeta's arms are always around me when I sleep.

Every morning he wakes me up with a kiss on the forehead, and we walk hand in hand down to breakfast. Then we spend the days working on our book. Some day's Peeta helps with his bakery building, and it's on those days that I hunt.

After our day is done, we walk up the stairs gripping hands again, and once more gives me a goodnight kiss on the cheek.

When either one of us wakes up from nightmares, the other is there to comfort them.

When my nightmares reaches their most terrifying points, Peeta always shakes me awake and whispers soothing words and holds me tighter.

He tells me to listen to Bird's singing, and that helps too.

I begin to learn Bird's tune by heart. It's choppy and imaginative. I begin to hum it when I'm working on a page in our book.

Peeta whistles it sometimes. He's a really good whistler.

I have more dreams with Peeta in it. Mostly he dies in them, and I always wake up crying.

Peeta kisses the tears away on my cheeks when that happens, and then I can't stop thinking about it, his kisses, I mean.

Sometimes, in the middle of the night, he will get up and sit with bird and feed him sunflower seeds. That only happens once a week or so.

I think it might be because he wakes up and is confused about why he's holding me.

I have suspicions that a tiny part of him feels frightened of me laying next to him the dark.

More weeks fly by, and summer begins to ripen into heat filled months. Corn, carrots, cabbages, and spinach have started to make their appearance among the fields of green.

One day he makes bread with nuts and raisins in it and brings it over.

"It's for you." He says, giving it to me. "The whole loaf."

"Thank you."

"I just remembered the recipe. I had tried to make it before, but it never turned out just the same."

I nod. It's the same bread he burned when we were eleven. I thought he hadn't remembered.

Something inside me stirs inside me when I hold it in my hands, and I am transported back to a time when I'm running in the pouring rain holding the warm loaf in my jacket, it's warmth spreading through my chest as I hold it against my skin.

I eat it slowly at the kitchen table, saliva pooling in my mouth.

I close my eyes, remembering the time I first slipped it between my lips.

I finish the whole loaf with my eyes closed, feeling the heat fill my belly.

Even after it's finished I keep them closed, not caring what Peeta would think, and listen to Bird chirp.

I can feel Peeta moving around the kitchen, probably baking something.

But then the air around me stills, and Peeta remains silent. But then I feel his fingers on my face, and all I can think about is how warm his hands are.

I open my eyes slowly, and he's right there. His face less than an inch from mine.

My breath stops. He caresses my face and stares deep into my eyes, looking at me questioningly, like he's asking me for permission.

I'm the one who closes the distance though.

His lips are so soft, and to have them press against mine is soothing.

I can feel his arms wrap around my waist as mine wrap around his neck. He lifts me up from my chair till I'm standing.

Our kisses are slow and non urgent.

Until I can feel him tighten his arms around me, and his back stiffen and his heart thump faster, he has to pull away while I feel him panic.

He rests his head on my shoulder as I rub his back and whisper assurances in his ear.

"I can't, Katniss. I'm sorry, I can't. I felt myself...I shouldn't have."

"Hush. It's fine. We don't have to. Just stay in reality, Peeta."

He nods, catching his breathe. I can feel his finger nails dig into his own palms.

I try to distract him.

"That bread was the same as when we were eleven." I say, stroking his hair, squeezing him a hug.

He nods, and I can feel his warm breathe on my neck.

"I didn't know you remembered."

He lifts his head up. "Of course I do. I told you I did in Thirteen, remember?"

"Oh yes," I say nonchalantly. "That's right, you did."

"Yeah." He says. "You were wasting away. I wouldn't stand for that."

"Thank you."

His arms loosen around me and he takes a deep breathe and kisses me on the forehead.

"Sorry about that. I thought I could...handle it. I guess not."

I smile at him. "Is your bakery finished?"

"Almost. Want to see it?"

I nod and holding his hand we walk into the town.

People look at us as we pass them. Their stares make my stomach churn. What are they thinking?

But then I tell myself not to care.

Peeta shows me his now bricked bakery. I have to shade my eyes because the sun is high and strong.

"I can't help with this part." Peeta says reluctantly, as we look up at the men hammering up high. "My leg. They won't let me."

"When do you think it'll be open for business?"

"Before winter, I hope. Cheap prices for everything...that way everybody can have something warm and sweet."

That makes me think of something. "When I first saw the town, a man offered me a free candy. The district as a whole seems richer. Where did that money come from?"

Peeta shrugs. "Not sure. I think President Paylor might have issued some sort of grant to each District. The idea might have had something to do with equalizing each section...that's what I heard at least."

I like the idea. Are we as rich as District One and Two then? What is the Capitol like now? Did they have to decrease budgets? A tiny part of me feels sorry for them. It must be hard to have everything, and then one day have nothing. But then I feel disgusted for sympathizing with them. One man has, and another has not. That's not fair.

"Katniss?"

"What?"

"Remember that night? A few weeks ago when I first lost control?"

I hope he doesn't bring up what I think he's bringing up.

"Yeah?"

"And I told you that you had said something in your sleep?"

"Mmhhmm."

We're coming back to the house now. I can see Haymitch outside of his messy home, feeding his geese. He stops and turns towards us as he sees us passing by.

He yells something at us but neither of us can hear him. So we just keep walking. He's probably drunk anyway.

Yep, there he goes, he just fell over.

"Haymitch is drunk again." I say trying to distract Peeta from what he was saying.

Peeta grips my hand tighter. "Katniss?"

"What?"

"What do _you _think you said?"

He wants me to say it. And he deserves it. Peeta deserves to hear me say I love him.

I take a deep breathe.

A hope and a sparkle fills his eyes as he sees me open my mouth.

"I saw my little sister again." I force my lips to say it, no matter how much it will hurt to utter the word. And no matter how much it will hurt Peeta.

"I saw P-prim. I told her I loved her."

Peeta's face softens. "Oh, I see."

He believes me.

But I do think he's disappointed.

I turn and start walking home.

Peeta has to trot to keep up with me. He opens my front door for and lets me go inside first.

We go back to working on our book, and neither of us speaks of it again.

* * *

><p><strong>Reviews=Faster Chapter Reviews<strong>


	11. The Straw Man

**People have asked me why I have added Bird in the story. I guess I added him because I wanted something that was originally me. **

**Bird is my brain child. **

**He is totally and completely mine. I like having that. You know, my own little twist. I've been told that it would have been better not to have added Bird, but then it wouldn't be MY story.**

**And I hope nobody else minds that he's a big part of the story...well, he's not _all _that important, but he's in there quite a lot in the beginning. **

**I've been thinking about suggesting a song to listen to while reading this to set the mood. Some other authors have been doing that, and I find it really helps get the picture straight in my head. I have some peculiar tastes in music,however, and most of them are Soundtracks. **

**So unless you like old lady music, don't listen to the tracks I use. **

**Haha. **

**This one is from The Help Soundtrack that they used during a scene. It's called " Mississippi " by Thomas Newman. Hopefully it can get your imaginations going.  
><strong>

**I'm having so much fun writing this story. I check my email for reviews almost obsessively because they make me laugh. **

**is awesome. I do not own The Hunger Games.  
><strong>

The Straw Man

Summer heats up.

The thunderstorms start rolling in, and I sit in my living room whenever the black clouds start gathering and watch with wonder.

I flinch and am amazed every time a flash of electricity pierces the sky. I bring Bird in to watch with me sometimes, I place his cage near the window so he can look out.

He clings to his golden bars with his tiny talons and flutters nervously every time thunder booms. Making it seem like he appreciates being in his cage, and not out there in the storm.

Peeta begins to use my oven more often to bake things. Peeta sitting beside me, Bird singing, and sweet bread making smells waft through my house makes me feel a pinprick of happiness. And I cherish every second of it.

It's especially nice to work on our book during a storm. But sometimes our lights will flicker and diminish. That's when we break out candles and light the fireplace, and I sit with my head on Peeta's shoulder while he sketches his brothers into the book.

With the patter of the hot rain and warm glow of the candles and stormy sky, a certain calmness begins to seep into my bone marrow. And for a moment, just a moment, I forget the pain that I carry with me every day.

Heavy air slips into my town. Every window is opened, every door is propped, children run barefoot through the corn fields and the town. Some travel barefoot into the woods and pick tiny apple's that still haven't ripened.

I have to keep braiding my hair back throughout the day because it will fray and go places it shouldn't.

The heat seeps into everyone's floorboards, a sheen of sweat covers my people's foreheads, and despite my ugly scars and skin grafts, I have to wear short clothing.

One day, during a particularly bad electric storm, Peeta turns on the television before the power can go out.

I jump at the sound of the thing coming alive and I glance suspiciously at it until I hear a voice say that this is one of the hottest summer's the country has ever known, breaking a 76 year record.

"They say the storm should last more than a few days." Peeta says next to me on the couch, handing me a glass of much needed water. I begin to fan myself with a sheet of Peeta's drawing paper.

The television gives out tornado warnings to the southern districts, and one hurricane watch to District Four.

"Hurricane?"

"I think it's a tornado on ocean water."

"Oh," I say, taking a large gulp of the water. I think about my mother in District Four. I haven't called her in a long while.

The news channel goes on to talk about the latest fashion trend so Peeta turns it off.

"I don't know if I can draw anymore. I'm sweating all over the page."

I grin, "S'okay. It's so hot. I don't think I can do anything but sleep."

"Sleep sounds nice." But he says it with a hint of regret. Neither of us have gotten a good night sleep in a very long time.

"Nap time?" I ask, scooting closer to him and pulling a couch pillow beneath both of our heads, not bothering to go upstairs.

We sleep through the lethargic afternoon, letting the rain and Bird drift us to sleep in each others sticky arms.

* * *

><p>I'm sleeping on Peeta's stomach when the front door bangs open and a sopping wet Haymitch brings in a gust of humid air, blowing in winds and hail.<p>

"Get up." He says shortly. "Every hand is needed."

And just like that he's out the door again, leaving my front door swinging wide open, letting the driving sheets of water plummet onto my furniture and Peeta's paper.

Peeta pulls himself off me and catches our book papers before they can fly away while I slam my front door shut, yelling curse words at Haymitch as he heads into the town.

Before the door slams shut however, I catch a glimpse of the funnel cloud, and I am slightly confused.

I had never before in my lifetime seen a tornado, or anything like it. But I'm not stupid, and I know menacing things when I see them.

It's huge and gray and black, a huge cancerous wisp of cloud, thinning out until it touches the ground.

"Where do you think Haymitch wants us to go?"

"I don't know. But look." I say, pointing towards the window.

He looks out the window and raises an eyebrow at the cloud off in the distance.

"Well...what do we do with that?"

I shrug. "Why would Haymitch want us to go out there during this with him?"

"He's _outside?"_

"I saw him walk into the fields.""

We both run up to an upstairs wndow and open it, straining to catch a glimpse of him through the pelting rain and hail.

"There he is!"

Haymitch's tiny figure was stumbling and fighting his way into the corn fields.

"He's drunk!" Peeta yells over the whistling wind and storm. We both tuck our heads back inside.

"He's drunk." He says again. "I'll go get him," he says, already departing from the room.

"Not without me." I say determinedly, following him out of the house.

We have to hang onto each other as the wind and hail pound at us. All of the trees are bent in half, the wind swaying them and making their trunks groan in protest. Birds have crash landed onto anything solid, houses and structures are and the sky is so dark, it's darker than midnight.

I hear a child crying in the wind, though when I look around I don't see anyone. The high pitched yell sends a shiver down my spine. I know it isn't the weather, the air is too heavy, and the rain is too hot to ever chill me.

The wind sends rocks and trees and leaves into our eyes, I bend my neck down and try to keep my face behind Peeta's shoulder as he powers through it.

I trip on a rock, and I realize that I'm not wearing any shoes or a jacket.

We're half way to the fields now, and I try to spot Haymitch in the stalks of swaying and breaking corn.

"Can you see him?" I try to ask, but it never makes it out of my mouth.

A particularly large gale of wind practically lifts me off the ground and Peeta shouts in surprise as he grabs onto my waist and glues me to his side.

"Don't blow away!" He demands.

I curse loudly at Haymitch Abernathy.

"Look! Other people!" Peeta shouts then.

And sure enough, men and women and even children are sprinting into the crop fields, holding baskets and old pillow cases.

"What are they doing?" I say, trying to yell over noise.

But as I say it, I see a tiny Seam girl trying desperately to shove as many ears of corn into her woven basket, and some even into her shirt. Her mother is holding the back of her faded old dress to keep her from blowing away.

"Hey!" Someone calls over. They're voice practically lost over the storm. A particularly bright flash of lightning lights up the face of Thom as he runs over to us, handing us each a game bag.

"Start collecting!" He yells and then runs back into the stalks of corn.

Peeta lets go of me when I'm safely in the fields and masses of people.

I have never seen corn on the stalk before, but when I find the lump on the thick stem and see the golden yellow peeking out from under it, I quickly grab and yank with all my might to pull it off. But apparently they aren't really attached very well, because the ear comes off easily and I end up almost punching myself in the face with my own fist.

Peeta never strays more than a few feet away from me as we rapidly shove the corn into our bags.

"The whole district is here!" He yells. I look around. Sure enough more and more people spill into the forest of corn as the wind and the hail and the sound of something roaring fills up the air.

I see Greasy Sae as she pulls up to yank the ears of corn beside me, muttering and cursing under her breathe.

"Never in my years. _Never_ in all of my long years, have I _ever-"_

I guess this is new for her too.

I look over my shoulder every now and again to be sure of Peeta. And only when I can see his brow furrowed eyes filled with concentration can I really work. It's hard though, the sky is so pitch black, and mostly we rely on the constant flashes of lightning to move on and pick everything.

It seems like ages, as we all listen nervously at the roaring in the distance, and try to keep the hail from hitting our eyes and crops. But it ends up useless, the hail now comes in a ball just slightly smaller than the size of my fist. As they hit my head I can feel the ice crack on my skull, making the world shudder for a while as I try to regain my balance.

I can hear Thom calling out to everyone in our field and the nearby crops.

"Faster! It's coming! Hurry up!"

Peeta reaches over to touch my shoulder every few minutes, I think just to be sure that I haven't blown away yet.

When I see his hands shaking I do a double check. Is he just frightened or is he going mutt?

"You okay?" I ask him as I ready myself to drop everything.

He's paler than usual, his skin practically neon in the dark as the rain falls on his ash-blonde hair. His blue eyes strike out at me when lightning strikes, making him seem like a vibrant.

"Stay," I say to keep him in check. "Stay in the moment. The food, Peeta, the food!"

He nods hurridly at my little pep talk and turns back to the corn and begins to mutter to himself.

"She might fly away. She can't fly away, bring her inside, bring her inside...too dangerous...too dangerous."

"Peeta, I'm right here. I'm not flying anywhere." I encourage, gripping his wrist to prove my point. "See?" I say gesturing my wet bare feet firmly planted into the dirt.

He nods again but doesn't let go of my hand and we both have start picking again with one arm.

"This isn't right! The children can't be out here! Who cares about the crops!" Greasy Sae yells at Thom then, who has appeared at my side.

Thom shakes his head, straining his voice to be heard. "Lives are depending on this crop! _My _life!" He yells as he hurridly shoves the food into his shirt.

The sound in the distance increases and changes then. And some children give a shriek at the difference.

Greasy Sae curses. "It's hit the tree line! The edge of the forest!"

As I think about it, that cracking sound does sound like trees being ripped out of the earth.

We move down onto another row of corn where less people are massed together and I squint into the dark, wet green for glimpses of barely apparent yellow.

But instead I see a very large wooden post shoved into the ground.

The brown post rises up from the ground and I see empty bags of flower that have been stuffed with golden stray made to look like legs, and as I travel it up with my eyes I see the flour sack torso and the flour bag head with a straw hat sewed on top.

A cruel face has been drawn onto the tattered bag with coal.

A string of cans clanging in the wind has been tied around the scarecrow's neck to scare away birds, but now it just looks like it's hanging the scarecrow.

And there, under the armpit of the straw man, hides a thick and papery ball- like bulk of a Tracker Jacker's nest.

I freeze in my tracks, my heart almost stopping.

I feel as if I'm in a dream as the wind howls around me.

Why hasn't it blown away? Why oh _why _hasn't the nest blown away by now?

But it's hanging there, in the crook of the straw arm, swaying menacingly. And I stare up at it in fear and wonder.

I look over at Peeta slowly.

My eyes wide, I seem to watch in slow motion as Peeta's eyes raise and lock in on the bulk, I see them widen, and then I see his pupil's dilate in the lightning filled dark. I feel his hand on my shoulder squeeze tightly as his nails dig deep into my flesh and claw down to my forearm.

I hear my voice ring loud and clear with pain as Peeta drops his bag of corn and shoves me to the ground with two hands.

"Get away from me!" He screams seethingly mad. The now icy cold rain is now hammering down onto his face, the hail openly hitting his head as he shoves himself in the opposite direction, looking around himself in panic.

"You." He says, his eyes set in extreme hatred towards me. But I can barely hear it over the chaos.

He's breathing heavily now and clenches and unclenches his fists.

I see Greasy Sae tense up beside me as she gazes intently at Peeta.

"Now, just hold on a minute there, Peeta Mellark." She says warningly.

Peeta sets his jaw and stares intently at me as he shuffles his feet and looks around him.

He takes a step closer to me, holding his hands at shoulder length, not caring about the hail that hits them, as if he's itching to strangle me.

_"Now wait just one minute-" _Greasy Sae warns again, panic rising in her.

I drop my corn as Peeta lunges at me, but I slip in the mud as his strong hands reach me, gripping my shoulders as he throws me to the ground.

I give a yell and I feel tears mixing in with the rain as it flows down my face.

"Peeta!" I yell just before his fingers grip my windpipe.

I see Thom dart out from the corner of my eye at him, and knocks him off me.

I gulp a breathe of air before I throw myself at a Thom who is striking punches at a fighting Peeta.

"Stop it!" I scream at the top of my lungs. "Stop it! Don't hurt him!"

I try to grip Thom's shoulders as he shakes Peeta who is now on his back.

I scream and yell and thrash as I throw myself over Peeta and feel Thom's fist hit my ribs, sending a shock through me.

Thom stops and pulls back, bewildered and frightened as he sees me screaming and sobbing.

"Peeta!" I yell at him as Thom helps me throw him onto his back.

I sit ontop of him as I kiss him.

"Stay!" I yell as loud as I can in his face between kisses. "You stay with me!"

People around us are screaming at this sight, Thom and Greasy Sae are dazed, I notice there are less people than there were a few minutes ago.

More people are yelling and screaming as they flee the fields.

I think they are afraid of us, when I remember the funnel cloud coming our direction.

"Peeta!" I call. He gives a groan as I kiss him more. I feel his muscles begin to relax and tears spill onto his face as he begins to yank out his own hair.

I feel his arms gently encircle me as he kisses me back, both of our hearts thumping wildly in fear.

""Run!" I hear people scream around us. "We're such god-damn idiots! Run! Run away!"

Thom loses his nerve after looking up and takes off sprinting, while Greasy Sae shuffles on her feet screaming at us to get up before she caves in and takes for the safety of her own home.

"Always." I hear him say between kisses.

And then I get off him and pull him up.

"Peeta! We have to leave! Run!" I say.

"The food-" He's barely able to moan.

"Forget about it!" I yank on his arm some more. But as Peeta begins to get up from his position he gives a cry of deadly pain. I scream too, just because it hurts to see someone you love in pain.

Someone I love.

More screams, more hail, more rain, more straw-man noose cans clanging, more thunder, more lightning.

"Peeta!" I plead. "Peeta, Please!" I try to force him up onto his feet.

He gives another cry, and thats when I see the knife stuck into his hip, blood oozing out of it.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see the brown post begin to sway harder and as I fall over to protect Peeta, I see the scarecrow with the cruel face fall through the air over us.

I feel it crash onto my skull and I see spots fill my vision before the screams drown out and the wind fade away before I see the black, scruffy figure with a rum bottle and corn bag hover over me before everything disappears completely.

* * *

><p><strong>This chapter was a little intense. <strong>

**It was fun to write though.**

**Tell me your thoughts, feelings, comments, etc.**

**Also if you have any story ideas that would be lovely!**

**Reviews=Faster Chapter Updates. **


	12. The Solstice

**I'm really loving these reviews guys. They make me happy. Some are just down right funny. Especially when reviewers freak out. Haha.**

**I'm glad you guys liked my last chapter. I actually convinced myself no one would like it because it was so different. So right after I published it I regretted it. But the comments made me think it was decent. **

**A reviewer asked me how old I was. I turned 17 one month ago.  
><strong>

**Just in case anyone else was wondering.**

**I really love writing. It's loads of fun and the reviews make my day.**

**I've been planning on going to school to become an OT, (Occupational Therapy). But I never plan on quitting fan fiction. I bet I will keep on writing throughout my life. Writing on Fanfiction is kind of like leisure reading to me. It's how I relax and have fun. **

**One thing that bothers me about my writing is that it's not completely original.**

**So I'm planning on uploading a story on Fiction Press .net. The sister site to this one. It's the same exact thing except the stories are all completely the author's own.**

**I have a story in mind already. So I'll tell you when I start uploading it which I hope will be soon. I have to finish this one first. **

**So you should check it out once I give y'all the title. **

**If you're a Hunger Games fan, my story is only slightly similar. The only thing my original story and the Hunger Games have in common is that it's set in an "utopian" world, because I'm intrigued by them. The similarities end there however.**

**So I'll tell you when it's uploaded in case you wanted to check it out...**

**Oh yea. Track of the day is: There is no track of the day. Couldn't find one I liked. **

**It's one of my favorite songs.  
><strong>

**Sorry to blab on. Let's get back to Katniss and Peeta, shall we?**

The Solstice

I come to on my back, my limbs and hair splaying behind me. The first thing I see is a tiny field mouse hiding behind a fallen corn stalk near my head. It shivers and runs away as it sees my giant eye open.

An aggressive pain shoots from my head to my spine. The silver rain arrows and hail sting my face as the storm rages around me. The next thing I see is the twister, huge and oh so close.

Someone has shoved the scarecrow's post off me. The bleeding boy that used to be under me is gone. The scruffy figure is missing as well.

I try to sit up but the world spins around me and I vomit onto the trembling mud beneath me.

I can no longer hear any screams.

I am alone.

"_They've left me here."_ I think to myself in horror and fright.

This time, I try getting up on my hands and knees.

I struggle to keep the rest of my lunch down, but eventually I can stand on shaky legs, freshly flowing adrenaline allowing me to run away from where I was laying.

A thought occurs to me as I sprint as fast as I can back to my house. _What about the Tracker Jackers_?

I guess I wasn't stung. Was Peeta stung? Maybe, but he _was_ stabbed.

A streak of anger at Thom shoots through me as I round a corner of a town building.

Peeta could be laying dead somewhere. All because of an idiot of a man. Thom was probably the one to encourage all those people in the fields in the first place.

I hate him.

Did that dark man that stood over me take Peeta away because he was injured, and in the chaos forgot about me?

Finally I see my house a hundred feet away.

I sprint harder until I burst through my front door, covered in slick mud.

I open my mouth ready to scream an accusation at someone but my lungs suddenly give out, and I collapse onto the floor, sobs racking my body.

Someone's painful moans travel to my ears from an upstairs bedroom. The man in agony screams curses at someone about not retrieving a certain girl. A booming voice that sounds like Haymitch screams back at him, defending himself.

"Where is she? Where is she? I have to go to her! I have to go get her-" Peeta can't finish his sentence, pain has completely taken over.

"Peeta!" I scream hysterically as thunder almost drowns me out.

I'm answered by an agonized voice screaming my name.

"I'm here!"I yell back comfortingly, flying up the staircase.

I start sobbing when I see him on the bed with a recently bloodied knife on the bedside table.

Haymitch and Greasy Sae are hovering over him as Haymitch pours straight alcohol on his wound and Peeta yells out in anguish again.

I put my arms around his head and cry over him, stroking his head and face with kisses as he grips my hand and clenches his teeth as they stitch up his wound.

I realize that Haymitch must have been the dark figure that pulled the post off me. Haymitch must have been the only one who stayed to bring Peeta back to this place.

I don't even care that he forgot about me.

He got the one person that mattered anyway, and that was Peeta.

Greasy Sae is as pale as a sheet. A certain look of guilt masks her face, and I almost think to comfort her with a hand on her shoulder. She must feel guilty for deserting Peeta and I in the storm.

"That's it. That's the best I can do." She says sighing.

The stitches in Peeta's side are large and sloppy, nothing at all like my mother could do. But it'll have to be good enough for now.

"Ssh, It's over now Peeta." He takes a deep breathe.

"Lucky that knife was a dull one." Haymitch says while he takes a sip of his bottle. "Thom also has no idea how to kill people. Missed all the important organs."

Greasy Sae nods in agreement. "Didn't go too far past the skin. Hurts like hell though. We'll have to watch for infection." She says roughly.

She primly sets the thread and needle down besides the knife on the lamp table.

"He'll want to sleep. Let him."

I press my lips to Peeta's again. His pupils are small and controlled, but a metallic look of pain still echoes in them.

Greasy Sae quietly leaves and Haymitch follows behind her. Just before he disappears behind the door he stops and turns around.

"I didn't forget about you, you know."

"Oh?" I ask, venom and sarcasm dripping in my word, even though I really don't care, I'm just emotional strained and need a reason to be angry.

Haymitch glares at me. "I was going to get you. I just had to make sure the boy would survive first. I couldn't carry you both."

I turn away and pretend not to be listening.

"I figured you would have the better chance of surviving. He was bleeding too much."

"Feel free to leave."

Haymitch growls and turns away again.

I think of something. "Wait!"

He hesitates and throws dark glances at me. "What?"

"The Tracker Jacker Nest." I say, hoping a sleepy Peeta won't hear me. "They didn't sting anyone."

"That's because it was empty." He says nonchalantly.

"What?"

"They were all sprayed before Peeta came back to District Twelve. I made sure of that."

Then he turns and leaves, making sure to slam the door behind him.

* * *

><p>I sit with Peeta until he falls asleep. He whispers my name while he's in the in-between, sweat gleaming on his face.<p>

This is what I get.

Everything good is taken away from me.

I let myself even get a _pinch_ of happiness, and something terrible happens.

This time it was almost Peeta's life.

I look intently at him. His expression is soft, the kind of face he often wore when he was young. Purely kind and warm.

I lean over and kiss him again. It's the first kiss we've shared that wasn't surrounded by disaster, it's the first kiss that we've shared that had nothing to do with the Hunger Games or their cameras.

It's purely us.

And he isn't even awake for it.

I can hear Peeta mumble in his sleep. Mostly his words are centered around me.

I should just admit it to myself.

I love him.

I truly love him. I do.

Now the question is, can I say it out loud?

It can't be that hard can it?

I curl up beside him and whisper it into his ear. "I love you."

I don't see any change in his face though, his breathe still shallow.

I stay beside him until I hear the storm die.

It goes down with a fight, making loud noises and pulling apart more buildings, but in the end, the rolling hills and mountains of my region are too much for it.

And when it sputters out, and the rain stops and the sun starts to warm the earth again, I feel Peeta shudder beside me.

"Katniss?"

"Yes?"

"You're alive."

"Yes." I say, with a strange fit of hysteria.

Peeta licks his lips. "Thirsty."

"Oh, let me get you something." I say getting up, but he pulls on my arm.

"No. Stay. I'm thirsty...for some of those kisses."

What?

"Peeta?"

"Yeah. Those were nice."

He's hysterical.

"Let me get you that water..."

"That one, just now, that was a good one. Best medicine a guy like me could ask for."

I try to see if he's serious. I feel his forehead for a fever. He's got to be be delirious.

He opens one of his eyes, they're startling blue as they stare into me.

"Kiss me." He whispers softly.

I don't move, so he sits up in spite of my protests and puts my face in his hands. He gently swipes a piece of my hair from my eyes, and presses a kiss to my mouth.

"Hold me." I beg then.

He pulls me into his arms and I crawl under his blankets.

He kisses me more, and I kiss him right back.

Starting slow, I allow myself to be taken over by this beautiful boy.

At first, his kisses are soft, when we both grow more feverish for each other, and he ends up on top of me.

I'm actually surprised he's able to, despite his condition.

He runs his hands through my hair, then my neck down to my stomach, then down to my thighs.

He kisses my eyes, my nose, my neck and my hands.

"You're all covered in mud." He says with a laugh before he kisses my belly button.

For some reason I find this hysterical and I end up giggling uncontrollably while Peeta grips me, his shoulders shaking from his laughter.

I push him gently onto his back again and snuggle into his chest.

"What did you dream about?" I ask, trying to see if he heard my confession earlier.

Peeta takes a deep breathe and stares at the ceiling.

"I was thinking about Haymitch."

"Haymitch?" I ask, knowing he's lying.

"Yes. I was so angry with him. I dreamed I was punching him in the face. He left you behind! I could have killed him! I truly hated him in that moment."

Oh. That makes more sense. That's all he says, and his expression holds only slight irritation, so I don't think he heard my proclamation.

"Be glad you didn't. He just saved his life." I say lazily.

"Yeah, but did nothing to save _yours._"

"You were more important."

He gives me a squeeze and through his teeth.

"_You are worth more than everything_."

I look at him for a while, he locks his eyes with mine to prove his point.

After a short silence, I say, "Looks like we've cured your kissing disability."

His grin is dazzling. "Yeah. Looks like it. Ha!"

He reaches over and give me a long kiss for maximum effect.

"Today is the Summer Solstice." He says looking out the window then.

I begin to trace his facial features while he talks.

"It's the shortest day of the year. It definitely should feel short, compared to yesterday."

I chuckle. "How should we spend this day?" I say placing a kiss on his nose.

"Let's vote."

"Vote?" I ask.

"Sure. In spirit of the new republic. What do you want to do today?"

I think on it. "Never leave this bed!" I say.

"Well, my vote counts as two. Since I'm the one who got stabbed. I think I deserve some handicap points."

I laugh. "Okay. What do you vote for?"

"Staying in bed."

"Huh. That's three to zero."

"Yep. Majority wins."

"Too bad, Minority!"

We laugh, partly because we're happy, and partly because we're relieved.

* * *

><p><strong> So what do you guys think? Remember :REVIEWS=FASTER CHAPTER UPDATES!<br>**


	13. Birdie's Song

**I do not own the Hunger Games.  
><strong>

**I need to apologize. In the last chapter, I mentioned that the Summer Solstice was the shortest day of the year...when in fact it is the longest.**

**A little birdie told me.**

**Actually it was multiple reviewers.**

**Whoops.**

**I should have Googled it. **

**This is how the conversation I had with myself went on in my head.**

**"Now, Cassidy. (That's my name.) Are you sure it's the shortest day?"**

**"Yes, I'm sure."**

***Cassidy reads her reviews.**

**"Oh."**

* * *

><p><strong>Birdie's Song<br>**

"How much?" Ambrose asks me.

"What do you got?" I return, pretending to mull over my minx pelt.

Ambrose pulls out six thick iron coins and slides them across the wood table towards me.

I shake my head. "That's too much." I slide the currency back to the trader. "She had a thin coat. I'll give it to you for two." I say it curtly, like I'm unaware my minx is really three times that.

"You know, you're right, girly. That was a little too high, wasn't it?"

"I'm always a fair trade." I say, a fake smile on my face.

I catch his lips twitching greedily as he takes the pelt and most of his money back. Ambrose isn't very bright. He doesn't catch that I'm giving him a charity. He thinks I'm just stupid.

He's new.

"See ya later, Ambrose." I call roughly as I exit the post.

"Hurry back now." He answers distantly while he quickly pockets his iron.

I give most people my game for free these days.

The tornado robbed District Twelve of most of it's crops, collapsed two more mine shafts and knocked down multiple town shops while they were still being built. Including Peeta's.

After our day in bed, Peeta and I had spent the next few weeks inspecting the damages around our home and his business. Builders couldn't start rebuilding until the rubble was cleared. They had to build a second bonfire to begin burning it all away.

The point is, money was lost. President Paylor pushed for more grants to compensate but it didn't go through. Congress claimed she was expressing favoritism for Twelve.

Resulting in light pockets all around.

Except for the three residents of Victor's Village. They will never run out.

But hey, the District is still in better shape than it was three years ago in that department.

* * *

><p>Peeta gets a book from Dr. Aurelius that explains the whole new republic and how it works.<p>

People say I should read it too, but I don't.

Peeta explains it as best as he can, but some of it I still don't catch up on.

I just don't care.

Besides, the tornado takes up most of my attention for months afterwards anyway.

The tornado left the corn fields scavenged, most of the corn stalks were broken and the corn already had worms and insects, not to mention all the birds.

All of the carrots and potatoes survived, a few paths were blown up from the actual funnel itself, but needless to say, families will be living off potatoes and carrots for a while.

There were fourteen casualties.

A Seam family was crushed by their newly built candy shop while they slept.

The father was the man who gave me the free peppermint.

One woman actually blew away. No one has found her body yet.

I hope they don't.

Like my mother, people began transfer from District to District.

Late in the summer, people came by train to start a new life in Twelve.

They were gone by the end of the month.

I'm not sure how, but some people have got it into their minds that District Twelve has become a place of ease and home to the rich and famous.

Like Ambrose.

He's from Five and he was a little disappointed when he first arrived.

Apparently he only had enough for a one way ticket.

* * *

><p>I pass Thom on my way home.<p>

I spit at his feet as he walks by. He grits his teeth and keeps looking forward.

He still hasn't apologized to me, let alone to Peeta.

Peeta thinks I shouldn't be so harsh on him, that he was just doing what he thought was right.

I don't care. My insides still squirm with frustration every time I see him. That woman that blew away, she was picking cabbage heads when it happened. Because Thom told her to.

But I do recognize the small twinge of sympathy that pokes at my heart as I finish my walk home.

Thom got in a lot of trouble with the Peacekeepers for encouraging so many people into the fields that night.

For punishment he's to work in the one remaining coal mine.

I've heard that guilt has been eating at him, and as I think about it, he did look thinner as I passed him.

My grudge loosens a tiny bit as I greet Peeta in my kitchen.

"Is it looking any better?" He inquires.

"Some." I sigh. "The uprooted trees are good for new wood beams. Some men are going over there tomorrow."

"Good. Cookie?"

"Sure."

We sit in my living room and talk like we usually do.

Peeta's stab wound is getting better. He can do sit ups now without any severe pain.

His memory is getting better as well.

He remembers just about everything about the Quell now.

I had showed him the spile for fetching water from the trees, as he stared at it I could practically see the memories reorganize themselves in his mind again.

He doesn't remember giving me the pearl though.

I had showed that to him as well. He had thought Finnick had given it to me. Even after his hours worth of gazing intently at it.

I should have told him the story, but I didn't.

I keep the pearl at the bottom of a drawer in my sisters bedroom. It nearly killed me to simply open her door to deposit it there. But I did it.

I tell myself I keep it hidden as a way to remind me of the Peeta that used to be.

* * *

><p>When I have nightmares, Peeta comforts me with kisses.<p>

Every once in a while, Peeta has nightmares too.

He mutters and screams my name, kicking and thrashing, and I have to sit on top of him and kiss him again like I did in the tornado to wake him up.

He holds me and cries that he saw me die in his arms. So I tangle my body with his and tell him stories about my childhood.

* * *

><p>One day, I start to sing again.<p>

My voice is scratchy and wobbly at first, but eventually it warms up and I'm able to sing the most complicated tunes.

I sing Bird's song.

So naturally he sings along.

Peeta comes in smiling from the kitchen when I finish.

He wraps me in his arms and places kisses all over.

"So beautiful." He sighs.

He picks me up and brings me upstairs when he can hold me and kiss me all he likes.

* * *

><p>After finishing a page of our book one night, Peeta escorts me upstairs to sleep.<p>

He helps me undo my braid and brushes his fingers through it. He changes into his pair of sleep clothing that he keeps here while I change into mine.

We both crawl in and let Bird to sing us.

"You sing, too." Peeta says, poking my stomach.

"Bird's much better."

"False!" He insists. "Sing the one your father used to sing."

"Bird isn't done with his yet. It would be rude."

Peeta rolls his eyes and pulls me into his chest and points a kiss onto my nose.

"Fine then, goodnight," he says while closing his eyes.

After a few minutes of Bird's constant chirp, I open my mouth.

_Are you, are you, coming to the tree?_

_Where they strung up a man, they say murdered three_

_Strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be_

_If we met up at midnight, in the hanging tree_

_Are you, are you, coming to the tree_

_Where the dead man called out, for his love to flee_

_Strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be,_

_If we met up at midnight, in the hanging tree_

_Are you, are you, coming to the tree,_

_Where i told you to run, so we'd both be free _

_Strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be_

_If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree_

_Are you, are you, coming to the tree_

_Wear a necklace of rope side by side with me_

_Strange things did happen here no stranger would it be_

_If we met up at midnight, in the hanging tree_

Then Peeta is there, hovering right above me, his lips crashing down on mine.

Before I know what's happening we're completely aligned with each other. My chest to his chest, my stomach to his stomach, my hips to his hips.

Even our toes are lined up.

I wrap my arms around his neck while his hands stroke my stomach. Something warms ignites inside of me.

His tongue slowly dips inside my lips and he gives a satisfied sigh. Next those warm lips go to my ear.

"I love you."

He rests his head into the crook of my neck and tangles his fingers into my hair.

I open my mouth to tell him the same when he says, "It's okay, you don't have to say anything."

I try hard to speak but the words just don't come out, they remain lodged in my throat.

He kisses from my ear to my jawline to my mouth.

"I love you." He sighs again. "It feels good to say that."

"You should say it more often." It's the only thing I can manage to whisper.

"I think I will." He grins at me as he suddenly grips me tighter and flips us around, so he's on his back and I'm over him.

"Goodnight, my love."

"Goodnight," I murmur, trying as hard as I can not to cry at my failure to say what I want to.

* * *

><p><strong>Seriously guys, <strong>

**REVIEW=FASTER CHAPTER UPDATES  
><strong>

hope you liked this chapter


	14. Final Chapter

**Here are the instructions for reading this chapter.**

**One: Play the song "First White Baby" by Thomas Newman. ( I just love him way too much) **

**Two: When I say so, if one wanted to listen to the music I have selected, they would play the song "Living Proof" by Mary J. Blige when I give the signal. I will type the signal in parentheses.  
><strong>

**The signal will be this: Play that one song now!**

**So there are two songs for this chapter.**

**Because, it's the final one!  
><strong>

**This chapter is rated T.  
><strong>

**This story is coming to an end.**

**Here's the last chapter. **

**I do not own the Hunger Games.**

* * *

><p>Thom comes to apologize.<p>

I stand in my hallway with my arms crossed and foot tapping while he takes off his hat and twists it in his hands, looking sheepish.

Of course, Peeta forgives him immediately while I gaze stony eyed at him as he walks away from my house, his shoulders hunched in with regret.

Peeta shuts the door quietly behind him. "He really regrets it, Katniss." He says while he rubs his side.

"I would hope so." I say through my teeth.

Peeta walks over to me. "Loosen up. What happens, happens."

He folds me into a hug.

After almost losing Peeta multiple times, I finally realized that I was in love with him.

Days went by and all I could think about is how good of a man he is, and how fragile human beings are, and why on earth did I not realize it before?

Why did bad things have to happen in order for me to appreciate what I already had?

Along with my revelation, fear crept into my corners.

I have become afraid that bad things will take away all that I have left.

The world has already taken away my sister, my father, Gale, Finnick, Cinna, and it has already started to stalk Peeta.

I find I can't appreciate anything without biting my nails.

Peeta tells me to look at all the good things that have happened.

And believe it or not, he comes up with a long list. He actually wrote them down, too. I think he needed to see the words just as badly as I did. He put the page into our book.

Bird is on that list.

What Peeta and I have become is on that list.

It becomes a game.

Whenever I feel like giving up, I play all these reasons in my head.

When writing the first reason down, he had looked over at me nervously, and wrote down, "_our friendship."_

I had grabbed his pencil and wrote, "_our family."_

Because we are each others family now.

He had grinned and kissed me, pulling me closer to him on the couch.

Together we had filled up an entire page of all the good things that have happened since the end.

I started to put every good deed that I saw people do from then on onto that thin sheet of fiber.

Peeta adds _Thom's apology_ down onto the list as we sit in my living room.

"Don't add that! He was obliged to apologize."

"He has given his entire crop earnings to that woman's family, Katniss."

"The one that...blew away?"

He nods.

"Did he tell you that? Just now?"

"No. I heard it in town this morning, while I was getting the rebuilding grant."

Oh. The ice in my heart starts to melt.

"But it...wasn't even his fault. I mean...he didn't know that the tornado would...what's he going to live on..." The change of heart sits in my mouth like liquid lead.

"Exactly. The past is the past. Twelve is forgiving him."

Peeta finishes writing in Thom's deed.

* * *

><p>We work on the book for a little while longer before Peeta says, "Do you hear that?"<p>

I cock my head and strain my ears. I don't hear anything.

"Has Bird stopped singing? He always sings."

Peeta shrugs. "His cage is upstairs."

We both climb the stairs up to my sunny bedroom where Bird is sitting at the bottom of his cage, his tiny body moving with every breathe. His yellow feathers looking duller than usual.

"What's the matter with him?" I ask. "Is he sick?"

Peeta doesn't answer me, but he opens the golden cage's tiny door and picks up him up.

"Hey there, guy." Peeta says softly. "What's up with you, huh? Got some bad air?"

Miner Canaries do stop singing if the oxygen is tainted.

"I don't smell anything." I say, even though you can't smell most poisonous gases.

"Hungry? Thirsty?" Peeta asks, pushing his resources towards the bird.

"Maybe he's just old." I suggest. "I'm not sure how long birds live."

"I think..." Peeta starts, looking out the window. " He's sad."

"Sad?"

"Sure. He's caught in a cage all day. Right by a window where he can see the trees and the fresh air, not being able to stretch your wings, or fly through any pretty places." Peeta says quietly. "Trapped."

We both stare out the window with Bird, his small black eyes locked on the sky.

"If I were a Mockingjay...I mean, a Canary." Peeta whispers softly as he stares at a beam of sunlight, "I would never part with flight."

I take the tiny yellow body into my hands and feel his soft feathers.

'"Don't give up now, " I call quietly to him, stroking his tiny head. "You can't give in that easy. Surely it's not so bad here with me."

Bird makes a tiny chord, almost like he's trying as hard as he can to be happy.

"Remember, how we used to sing together?" I ask him then. "All kinds of songs."

Bird flutters his wings.

"Let's take him outside." Peeta says. "We can keep him in the cage. If you want."

I nod. We slide Bird back into his cage and Peeta carries it outside.

With a soft breeze blowing Bird perks up a bit. He fills his tiny lungs completely with fresh air.

After some sunlight, we bring him inside and let him loose.

I watch him silently as he flies around the house, landing at each window and singing about what he sees. Every song is sad.

Bird picks my bedroom window to sit at overnight and falls asleep. We don't put him back in his cage.

Peeta and I eat dinner quietly, our thoughts other places.

"I didn't think they could feel." Peeta says then, looking up from his food.

"What?"

"I mean, I knew they could feel. I just didn't know they could _feel. _That they have emotions. Birds I mean. Well, all animals really. I thought it was just humans."

"Bird doesn't have feelings. " I say then, even though now I'm not so sure.

I don't want him to die. I like singing with him.

Peeta doesn't say anything.

* * *

><p>Peeta gives me a long kiss before bed.<p>

"I love you." He says, not expecting anything in reply, happy with just saying it.

I snuggle in closer to his chest.

"You are my whole life now."

He wraps me into his arms as we crawl into my bed.

I begin to hum Bird's tune, and Peeta whistles along.

Moon beams are falling into my room like the sunlight did this morning, turning everything blue.

Peeta's fingers trace along my arms as the song progresses.

Even after the song ends, Peeta traces my scars. They completely cover my body. Like one great maze that he's trying to solve.

My face, my neck, my shoulders, my breasts, my stomach, hips, all the way down to my toes, he caresses, and it sends chills through my body.

He finds my lips and traces them as well.

And that's when I feel it.

The same thing that I felt on the beach.

It's like someone took a lighter to my blood as it runs through me.

I grab Peeta's face softly and kiss him slowly.

I tangle my legs with his and push myself on top of him.

While kissing me he wipes my hair from my eyes so he can look at me properly.

"My Katniss..."he whispers huskily. "So mysterious."

My love for him flows, but instead of rinsing through me, it recycles itself, growing stronger with each thump of my heart.

I match my belly with his, and they glide across each other, our skin cool.

His skin feels so nice against mine that I unthinkingly slide his sleeping shirt off and slip my hands over his scars. They are littered across his skin just as much as mine.

The feeling of skin on skin is so nice that I pull my shirt off too.

I can hear Peeta's heart beat faster as I spread my fingers through his hair.

Then I realize what it is that I really want.

"Shh." Peeta says then. "Katniss, what are you doing?"

I never answer him.

Touching and kissing, I let Peeta have all of me. And he takes it gladly.

Afterwards, we lay breathing in each others arms, our hearts slowing down.

He strokes my hair and tells me how much he loves me.

"You love me. Real or not real?"

So then I say.

"Real."

I feel it wash over him for the first time.

I can see the change in his face. Just knowing somebody loves you can make your life worth while.

I see it settle in his eyes, replacing any doubt with happiness.

It flows to his bones, and into his muscles as he touches me, the way he moves now completely different.

Because somebody loves him.

"You belong to me now." Peeta whispers.

"And you belong to me. We're each others." I answer back.

And for the rest of my life, I never have any trouble saying how much I love him ever again.

* * *

><p>(Now play "Living proof" by Mary J. Blige)<p>

When the sunlight breaks through my window again, we know what we have to do.

Peeta and I wake. I slip on an old dress that is faded.

He braids my hair back, then he changes his mind, and let's it fall down my back, flowing.

Together, we place Bird in his cage and carry him down to the fireplace.

Peeta grabs the bread, and I grab the matches.

With Bird as our witness, we make our vows and toast our bread together, my heart imploding on itself.

It is the best bread I have ever tasted.

Though I'm not one for tears, water flows down my cheeks as Peeta makes his promises to me.

My vows do fine. But I stutter and run out of breathe while I try to get out how I feel and refrain myself from kissing him senseless, my blubbering and tears making it impossible for him to understand me.

I guess I'm understandable because Peeta ends up crying happy tears at my performance.

When we're finished, we dry our faces and kiss each other for a long time.

When finally I say, "Bird's turn."

Peeta nods and breathes deeply.

He picks up Bird's cage and together leave Victor's Village.

"I know the perfect place." I say, gripping Peeta's open hand.

I lead him to the fence that had been trampled down by the tornado.

Trees are laying horizontally everywhere, and no matter how hard it is to travel in the middle of the chaos, the forest is the most beautiful that I have ever seen it.

Sunlight streams through the openings that the trees left, making the woods brighter than ever.

Bluejays and finches sing their songs nice and loud, and at the sound of them, Bird begins to chirp as loud as he can, his lungs heaving, his wings flying, his body excited.

He knows what's coming.

A herd of dear prances through clearings and stop to drink from pools of rainwater that have been collecting in great swirls.

I bring Peeta to the lake.

And when I see it, the soft blue in between some bushes, my enlarged heart grows even more swollen. Where sorrow used to live, happiness moves in.

Peeta looks at me and smiles.

"This is..."

"The place my father brought me, yes."

He looks around, dazed by the beauty.

"Ready?" He asks handing me Birds cage.

"Just let me wade out into the water first." I say slowly.

I slip off my shoes and glide my toes through the sand.

Just before I step into the cool liquid, I feel Peeta beside me. Of course he should be beside me. We're partners.

I open Bird's door and quickly hold him in my hand.

"Goodbye Bird." Peeta calls at him, holding out his finger to him.

Bird stops and looks at him and pecks gently at it. Peeta laughs.

Bird is a live wire as I hold him close and kiss him. His feathers satiny and already more vibrant.

"Thank you Bird." I say. "For helping me."

I sing him his song, and he chirps along. He looks at me, and then I reach out my arms, Bird's adrenaline seeping through my skin.

"Don't stop singing," I say, and then I let my fingers go and then he's flying, singing as loud as he can.

He glides over the over blue water, his yellow reflection bouncing off the clear lake water.

Until he disappears into the trees on the other side.

"Do you think we'll see him again?"

Peeta laughs. "No. But at least you know another song."

That is true. I do have another song to sing.

* * *

><p>I never did see Bird again.<p>

But the day at the lake with my new husband proved to be one of the best in my life.

Even with the weight from our past permanently anchored into our hearts, we learned how to smile again.

I realized just how similar Bird and I were, especially now.

No longer am I a Mockingjay.

I am a simple, yellow bird with a purpose in life, and I sing because I can.

* * *

><p><strong>Reviews=um...final feedback.<strong>

**If a body was to look for my original story on Fiction Press . Net, then they should look up the author on Wednesday night, I'll have the first chapter of my original story up then.**

**I have the same author name:Kida Lydianna.**

**So just search my name.**

**I had so much fun writing this story! **

**Thanks to everyone who kept up with me!  
><strong>


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